


Out of Darkness, Light

by eveshka



Series: The Dawn King Cycle [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU WANT TO BE SPOILED, Dawn King Cycle, Drama, Gen, Here There Be Spoilers, Spoilers, endgame spoilers, you should know this by now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-19 18:37:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9455330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eveshka/pseuds/eveshka
Summary: This isn't a story about what happens in-game. This is a story about what happens after. It starts with a spoiler, and it just keeps going.And then, there were two.





	1. Chapter 1

Prompto Argentum was quietly cursing the darkness. Back before, when the sun rose and fell as it should, he'd complained when they had gone tromping into caverns and deep places best forgotten. It had, generally, been a good natured complaining. This was anything but. 

Language that would have had his old friends Ignis admonishing him and Gladio laughing was rolling fluently from pale lips as he made his way further into the Malmalam Thicket. Meldacio HQ had gotten word that some hunters had wandered into the depths and hadn't come back out, and someone had to go investigate. Given that he'd been in the thicket four times before, Dave had ‘voluntold’ Prompto for the task. 

 He was going to have Words with Dave when he got out of here, Prompto promised the darkness and pushed on into the depths. If he was lucky, he'd find the hunters hiding out at the haven and could assess the chances of a swift departure. If not, well, he knew the Royal Tomb was the next safest place. 

 

An hour later, he found the haven. The spells protecting the campsite had failed, and HQ would want to know. It was likely a side effect of the perpetual darkness, and with a resigned sigh, Prompto trudged up the slope, remembering his first foray in the knee deep water. It had ruined his boots, prompting Gladio to take it upon himself to educate the younger man about the difference between fashion boots and manly footwear. 

At least he'd learned, Prompto thought as he slogged his way up the hill. His feet weren't wet this time, and he managed to crest the hill without slipping once. And oh look, there was a gigantoad, lovely. Before the thing could fully register his presence, Prompto drew a pistol, aimed, and fired at the insanely large creature. Once he'd learned the weak spot, they weren't too hard to take down. Thank Ignis for that. He moved around the now-dead creature, electing to not try to harvest anything. He wasn't here to collect bounties, just to see if there was anyone alive to rescue.

The rain started to fall as he reached the narrow passage through the rocks to the hidden area where the tomb was, and Prompto sighed. While he had long since stopped complaining about his hair getting messed up by the rain, it didn't mean that he enjoyed his bangs hanging in his face. He'd try to dry off somewhat when he got into the tomb itself.

Around the curve in the rocks he went, and then came to a dead stop at the sight before him: three basilisks had taken up residence, along with a handful of chicatrice. Great. Just. Freaking. Great. He ducked down, counting. Eight of them and one of him. This was _so_ going to suck. 

Prompto had learned from Gladio that you took the little things out first. They were generally faster, could gang up on you, and while you were being pecked to death by chicatrice, the bigger birds came in for the kill. So, okay, access the old familiar magic, call up the circular saw, and make some feathers fly. Worked like a charm. 

Once the mob of ankle-peckers was dealt with, Prompto turned his attention to the basilisks. Fire worked, but without Noct to make flasks, supplies were precious and few. He'd been working with a few other Hunters trying to design a viable flame-based weapon, but so far more injuries had been caused than avoided. 

Once again wishing he could warp, Prompto climbed up a rock formation, fired a round at the giant bird that was trying to eat him, then leapt off for the farthest ‘away’ he could and ran like hell for the tomb. If he was lucky, the rain would help obscure his frantic run and he could make it inside to regroup and think his way through this.

  

It was even darker inside the tomb, if one could believe it. Then again, Prompto figured it was all in his mind and he needed to stop being a wuss, as Gladio would have said. He reached up, twisted his light a little brighter, and damn near jumped out of his skin when there was a shriek entirely too close for comfort. He might have screamed in response. Maybe. Okay, he screamed like a girl. 

“Wait… ow… damnit, I know that voice. _Prompto_?”

Oh gods. Of all the people on Eos who could have heard that girly scream that escaped his lips, it had to have been Aranea Highwind. He turned and moved around the burial vault until his light fell on a bloody figure seated against the back wall. “Gods, Aranea, what the hell happened?” 

She raised a hand to shield the light from shining directly in her eyes as he moved towards her, the other waving at her leg. “Took a basilisk talon to the thigh and I’m in here trying to stop the bleeding. Ran out of potions trying to keep ahead of the little ones.” Those ‘little ones’ packed a hell of a punch. 

Prompto frowned, fishing in his pack for a hi-potion and handing it to her. “That’s not like you. Want to tell me what really happened?” He crouched down and looked at her leg, trying to read the injury. Gladio had taught him much in the few years since Noct left them. No burn marks, it wasn’t cauterized, so it wasn’t an energy or lightning based injury… 

Aranea sighed as she dispersed the hi-potion and the wound began to close as he watched. “It really was a basilisk talon. I got dumped here on my ass with limited supplies and no backup. My client bailed, so here I am. Tried for the haven, found it was dead, and made my way up here, hoping I’d get to the top of the rocks. Didn’t expect to find a clutch of evil birds and a Royal Tomb.” 

“Damn,” Prompto replied, reaching out to trace the lines of the damaged fabric, gently poking at the now mostly healed injury. Wouldn’t even leave a scar. “Good thing I came along. Looks like that fixed you… do you feel like taking on some evil birds with me and getting the hell out of this place? I’ve got transport to Caem, and we can regroup there.” Okay, so it was a motorcycle, tricked out with some new lights that Cindy had developed, but it was fast enough to get them out and away. 

“Yeah,” Aranea said with a dangerous sort of smile. “I’d like to kick some feathery asses and get out of this hell hole.” She let him help her up, and tugged her armor back into place. The skirt was a mess, but it was still in one piece. Mostly. “Did you get any on your way in?” 

“All the little ones. Took a shot at one of the big ones, but I don’t think I did much more than scare it off long enough to let me get in here. Wish Ignis were here; he’d come up with a plan,” Prompto said quietly, wracking his brain. He didn't have any explosive rounds… 

“It’s just you and me, blondie, which is a damn sight better than it had been a few minutes ago.” Aranea picked up her lance and gave it the onceover, before looking back to Prompto, nodding once. “Anytime you’re ready, let’s move.” 

Prompto took a deep breath, centered his focus on her lance for one moment, quirked a grin and then met her eyes with a nod. “Let’s do it.” He could use a series of piercing shots, but they really needed the upper hand, and fast. What the hell was it that Ignis had said about these things? Other than something about recipes?

 

When Prompto and Aranea emerged from the Royal Tomb, the only thing left of the birds were some multicolored bloody feathers and what Prompto would later say was a mighty smug looking Red Giant. “Oh crap! Move!” Prompto pushed Aranea backwards into the Tomb as he split for the left. The flaming sword sliced through the air and he smelled his hair singe. 

A backflip landed him out of momentary reach and he pulled out his starshell cartridge, loading it into his pistol and then firing it off as a distraction while Aranea slipped back out of the tomb. He felt badly about shoving her backwards, but desperate times and all that. The starshell burst above them, and the Red Giant roared in anger. It spurred both fighters into action and without so much as a blink for communication, they moved in together. 

Linking with Aranea for a strike was like nothing else he’d done. She took his back against hers like Noct had, but then spun herself around him to go flying up into the air for a far more powerful strike than Ignis ever had. The sheer amount of downforce in her blow was breathtaking, and he whooped when the thing staggered and dropped to a knee. 

Both guns out, Prompto fired a fierce volley, dropping his clips on a rock and reloading as Aranea moved in for a distracting flurry of lance-strikes. “Hey, Aranea, when this is over, promise me something?” 

She went flying over his head, pole-vaulting onto a nearby rock and spinning to ready another airborne attack, lance clearly powering up for something. She glanced his way through her mask, eyes glittering for a moment. "Shoot, Prompto." 

He grinned, flipping his pistols and taking aim at the Red Giant's knee. Get a good strike there and it just might be crippled enough for her to take it down. “Dinner, you and me. Lestallum.” He fired and the first shot missed, but the second round made a hole the size of his fist in the thing's knee. 

She didn't wait, leaping into the air with a grace that belied the power behind it, spun the lance across her back, and then arced through the air. The lance made contact, point first into the already damaged knee and the creature was felled. "Why Prompto Argentum, are you asking me out on a date?"

The fact that she remembered his full name meant nothing, right? It didn't mean that she was open to the idea. He sighted, fired, sighted again, moved closer, and took another shot. "Could be, if that's what you want it to be," It was much easier to sound non-committal when you were focused on killing something ten times bigger than you were. 

The lance flew up through the creature's head, effluvium chasing soon after, spraying them equally with ichor, and there was little doubt the thing was close enough to dead that it was a given. "Gods, you certainly know how to show a girl a good time." Aranea laughed. "But only if you let me shower first." 

She'd gotten more on her than he'd been hit with, and they had a long way to go before they could think about showers, but he grinned as if it was the sunniest day in Galdin Quay. "Deal."


	2. Chapter Two

The drive from Malmalam to Caem took longer than it ever had before, but that was mostly because Prompto wasn’t the only one on the bike. When he had a passenger, he channeled his inner Ignis. Or what he thought would be an inner Ignis if Ignis ever rode a motorcycle. Which very well was in doubt, especially after Altissia. Needless to say, Prompto wasn’t reckless, took corners responsibly, and never took his eyes off the road. Which meant it took him almost two and a half times as long to get to the lighthouse, but they got there.

The house had long been lost to elements and daemons, but the lighthouse itself remained a sanctuary, safe and secure against everything the Starscourge and Ardyn had managed to throw at it. And Ardyn had thrown a lot at it. The last wave of daemons had been what had destroyed the house, but that had been a year or so ago.

Prompto had a hard time figuring how long a day was anymore. Ignis, stars bless the man, always updated him with the passage of time, and the last time they’d spoken, the strategist had informed him that it had been five years, seven months, two weeks, and the rest Prompto had completely forgotten because it just didn’t apply. He ate when he felt like it, slept when he needed to, and that was good enough for him.

The motorcycle made quick work of the hill that led up to the lighthouse, and then he swung down into a gut-twisting little path that skirted the edge of the cliff. It wasn’t as narrow as it seemed, but he could feel Aranea tense up on the seat behind him. “Hang on, we’re almost there…” Around one more drop and there was the well-lit entrance to the basement of the lighthouse.

He parked the bike on the docks where they had once departed for Altissia, and before he even cut the engine, she was off the back of the seat, feet planted firmly in the ground. Prompto turned, looking at her with a curious thought. She flew through the air by virtue of her lance, so why in the name of Titan was she unsettled by a motorcycle? “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Did anyone ever tell you that you drive like a maniac?” She worked her skirt some, unhitching it at the waist and then moving to dunk it in the water. Sure, it was salt water, but he understood the need to get as much blood and monster brains off as possible. If Red Giants had brains. Now that was something to ask Ignis later… she was talking. “-ing that again. I’ll call my ship and we can take it back to Lestallum.”

He snorted, cutting the engine and dropping the thing on to the kickstand. “I was going slowly.” For him. He hadn’t thought that she might not be used to motorcycle travel. “It just feels like you’re going a lot faster when you’re on the back of one of those things. Wind in your hair, bugs in your teeth.” Not that the bugs that flew around anymore were small. They’d grown to massive proportions and usually took three whacks with a broadsword to fell. Get one of those in your face and game over.

Aranea took off her helmet and just looked at him. He didn’t need explanation, instead moving to unlock the door to the bunker. “Shower’s on the right… the water heater is probably off, so let me go get that started.” He’d have to check the fuel level too, see if Cor had made a delivery. If not, well, Prompto had taken cold showers before, another would be nothing new. He followed her in, pointing towards the small bathroom, and then moved back outside to walk over to get the water heater turned on.

 

A half hour later, Prompto was sitting on the upper deck, his feet hanging over the edge. He spent most of his time at the lighthouse either way up here or down on the deck where the boat had been docked. Up here, the light cycling overhead kept him safe, though the elevator was out of service. The stairs held well enough and someone had to come up here and check on the light anyway. Cor had clearly been through and done some maintenance, so Prompto had just settled to watch the darkness.

Footsteps behind him brought Aranea around the curve of the walk, and she whistled low. “The view is incredible. Wish I could have seen it in the day. Bet you could see to Altissia from here. Shower’s all yours. I even left some hot water.”

Prompto worked his way out from his tangled into the railing position, and stood, turning to greet her, and then came to a poleaxed stop. Yeah, okay. He’d seen women at Galdin Quay wearing less, but for some reason he’d been completely unprepared to come face-to-face with Aranea, her hair piled on her head, in her underwear. Her _black_ underwear. His ears had never felt so hot.

“Oh you’re cute,” Aranea purred, and turned to lean on the railing and look out over the water with a soft laugh. “That was almost worth the whole thing.” She shook her head and didn’t look his way again, instead pointedly watching the waves in the faint light spilled from the lighthouse. After a moment, she stretched, rolling her shoulders as she reached skyward and Prompto fled for dear life.

 

The water was mindnumbingly cold when he stepped into it and he gasped at the shock. Granted, he hadn’t turned the hot faucet, but still. He reached for the hot faucet and a flash of black against pale skin in his mind made him pause. He’d had companions, and a few lovers along the way. And it wasn’t as if he’d held any thought of, well, _anything_ between the two of them. Hell, his comment earlier was simply born of nerves in battle, right?

He ducked his head under the water, starting to clear the gunk before trying to add soap. Maybe it was the absolute nonchalance involved. How she’d just walked out wearing her underwear like she was just another one of the guys. Not that Noct or Ignis had ever done that. Gladio, was Gladio. And that was a thought Prompto put firmly back as he’d been traumatized enough that morning, thankyouverymuch.

Hopefully she’d have something on by the time he got out.

And then it hit him. Their clothing had been covered in ichor. She’d probably washed hers while she was in here and that’s why she was in her underwear. More to the point… oh gods. His clothing would need to be washed as well. And that would leave him in his underwear. _And_ he’d been wearing the fitted boxers. Prompto hung his head, water running down his back. He was going to die tonight, he knew it.

His thoughts went mostly in a circle while he washed his shirt and jeans in the shower, opting to wipe down the leather jacket instead of a full soaking. Once he got to Lestallum, he’d pay a professional to clean it up for him. He washed his hair, scrubbed himself, and then rinsed out his shirt again for good measure before turning off the water and stepping out of the shower with the intent of finding a towel.

When the towel hit him in the face, he caught it before realizing that the only person who could have thrown it was Aranea. Prompto grabbed the towel, dropped it to his waist, but she was already mostly out the door with his wet clothing as if there wasn’t a thing in the world wrong with what had just happened.

Yeeeeup. Going. To. Die.

 

He worked his way out of the bathroom a little while later, hair more or less dried and the towel wrapped around his waist over the boxers. He might not have any dignity left, but he’d at least try to mitigate any awkwardness. “Thanks for grabbing my clothing. I’ll get the jacket cleaned in Lestallum. Did you radio your ship?” Hey, if he came out talking like she was just one of the guys, it would help, right?

“Yeah, but they’ll be a few hours. Running some supplies up to Hammerhead, and then they can get down this way,” She called from the kitchenette. “There’s some stuff in here almost worth eating, you want anything? I think this is dried garula.” She ghosted by the doorway for a moment, then stuck her head out and looked at him. “Prompto, I’m the only female in a ship full of soldiers. Relax.”

He hadn’t realized his hands were even resting there defensively. Embarrassed, he forced his hands apart and scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, well. I’m a guy and I want you to respect me before dinner?” _Oh, that was so lame. Lame, lame, lame, Prompto_. He could hear Noct laughing in the back of his mind.

Aranea laughed softly and shook her head, causing some hair to fall and then moved back into the kitchen. “Suit yourself, I suppose. Anyway, looks like dinner is Jetty’s and dried garula strips. Have a seat, it’ll be out once I find a bowl.” He heard her bang around a bit, checking cabinets, and sighing at the options.

Prompto dropped onto the smaller chair and stared at the ceiling. One of the guys. She was just one of the guys. Didn’t hurt that she could probably break him in two without too much effort, so yeah. One of the guys. “You know, if you’re tired, you can take the cot. I’m okay for a while, and I’m not the one that was injured… how’s the leg, by the way? I’ve got another potion in the saddlebag if you need it.”

She had a bowl in one hand and two bottles of Jetty’s twined into her fingers by the necks when she came out of the kitchenette, and she shrugged slightly. “Leg seems okay, though I may take you up on that nap. Getting my ass kicked by a bunch of birds may sound exotic, but really, it’s mostly just tiring.” She offered him a Jetty’s and then moved over to the small couch after he took his drink.

“Mmm, once the adrenaline’s gone, sometimes the only thing you can do is stay on your feet and pray that you can get back to civilization,” Prompto replied, popping open the bottle, and then moving to switch it for hers, which still had the cap on. He popped the cap on that bottle, saluted her and took a sip. Wasn’t a beer, but it was cold and wet. Worked well enough.

Aranea gave him a curious look, and then let it melt into a quiet smile before nudging the bowl of dried meat towards him. “Yeah,” she agreed. “So eat up and then let’s rest a bit before Biggs and Wedge get here. “I figure we’ve got about four hours, and I plan to make three of them quiet time.”

Prompto snagged a bit of meat, and nodded as he chewed. Worked for him. After all, quiet time meant he didn’t have to open his mouth and put his foot in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God. Sweet adorable Prompto. So precious. So awkward.


	3. Chapter Three

“Prompto. _Prompto_. Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

The world swam into focus as Prompto woke, bleary from not quite enough sleep. It had taken him a while to relax enough to fall into a semi-fitful rest on the couch in the lighthouse. Of course his brain had to replay the battle as he tried to do whatever it was that Ignis did to determine the best battle strategy. Prompto wasn't good at it, but he did try. Ultimately, he decided that there wasn't much he could have done differently given that they hadn't known the basilisks has been replaced by a Red Giant.

Oh, wait. That's what had bothered him. Red Giants only showed up after Iron Giants were destroyed. Aranea was right; that had been a clutch of evil birds. He had not been inside for that long and the birds had taken out the Iron Giant. Damn.

It was shortly after that thought that he'd finally managed to find rest, and waaaay too soon after _that_ that Aranea was waking him up. Her ship had arrived and he was startled to see Biggs and Wedge carrying his motorcycle out towards the front of the lighthouse. “Where are they going with my bike?” He sat up and remembered at the last second that he'd used his towel as a makeshift blanket.

“I'm pretty sure you didn't intend to leave it here, and how else are we getting to Lestallum? I'm not riding that with you again.” Aranea snorted and tossed something at him. “Now get dressed and let's get on board. We can stay awake until we get to Lestallum. I don't know about you, but I've got a place to stay there.”

And he didn't. Not one of his own, at least. He sometimes bunked in with Iris if she was in town, or Gladio. Ignis had a place in town, but he lived an even stricter and stranger lifestyle shrouded in shadow now. Had to be, to manage to survive blind in this world. The Six knew where the Ghost (as the Hunters called Ignis) was anyway. “I'll bunk in with some Hunters or something. There's always a bed somewhere.”

“Mmmhmm,” Aranea’s reply was vaguely indifferent, and she waved a hand at him as she moved back out to the deck to collect clothing. That was when he noticed she still hadn't dressed, and her own men were coming and going as if she was in uniform. Okay, that was just _weird_.

Prompto scrambled to put on the baggy black pants and draped the towel around his neck. He'd bring it back clean on his next trip down. “Here, let me carry something,” he said as he approached Aranea and took the bundle of clothing. It was still damp, but at least it was mostly clean. “Lead the way,”

She gave him that look again, and then seemed to decide to just let him carry the clothing to the ship. “All right, let's go. The trip will take about twenty minutes so don’t think you’re getting any more beauty sleep quite yet.” Aranea led them to the red ship that she commanded, and he followed up into the belly of the transport. It wasn't comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, but it beat many other places he’d occupied recently. He strapped in to a jump seat and held on tight.

 

True to her word, twenty minutes later, he was standing at the Coernix Station just inside Lestallum, his clothing bundled up and tied down over the back seat of his motorcycle. They’d dropped him off just outside and he’d ridden in shirtless like some sort of wild creature. He was just glad there weren’t any daemons along the way.

After filling up and paying, he walked the bike across the road and down one of the darker side streets towards the Hunter-kept residences, wondering where he should start to look for somewhere to bunk. Perhaps up where Dave usually haunted would be a good start, but then, most Hunters knew Prompto, and he had a feeling if there was floor space anywhere, he’d be welcome.

He needed clothing, a shower, some sleep, and food. Not necessarily in that order, but as long as he could secure the basics, he’d muddle through until he could get back to Meldacio HQ for the rest of his belongings that old Ezma was hanging on to for him.

“I trust you’re in town for the next few days and in need of somewhere to sleep?”

For the second time in the same damn day, Prompto screamed.

_“Shiva’s tits, Ignis!”_ He struggled to catch his breath and rotated his head, scanning for the owner of the calm accented voice. Not seeing the man, he rolled his eyes. “And you complain about being nicknamed ‘Ghost.’ Where the hell are you?” At least when the gloved hand fell onto his shoulder, he didn’t scream. Just yelped, cussing almost as fluidly as he had in Malmalam.

“Your escapades as a solo Hunter have limited your vocabulary somewhat, I hear.” Ignis remarked dryly, then turned before Prompto could get a good look at the man, and started walking down the narrow side street. “Come along, Prompto. Don’t fall behind.”

It took much of Prompto’s concentration to track Ignis in the shadows while keeping the bike upright and not scraping the walls at points. Narrow, twisty little paths had become the norm in the depths of Lestallum, and some of the deeper areas didn’t have much lighting. Daemons couldn’t get in; there was too much light above. It just didn’t penetrate fully down to the grubby streets.

Ignis was waiting in a nondescript doorway when Prompto rolled the bike to a stop. “You want me to leave this outside?” He would, for Ignis’ sake, though he’d want to find somewhere to lock it in place and keep it from running off without him. At Ignis’ motion, however, he rolled the thing through the door and moved it over against a wall. “Okay, it’s on the left wall. About a foot and a half wide.”

“I know what a motorcycle looks like, and I know you’re never far from yours. Rest assured it is as welcome as you are.” Same snark, similar clothing. The only real difference Prompto could initially spot was that Ignis didn’t wear his hair quite as spiky as he used to. “Is there anything you need?” It almost sounded as if Ignis wasn’t staying. 

Prompto spotted a couch and a blanket tossed over the arm, and shook his head as he spoke. “Nope. Just somewhere to close my eyes for a bit, maybe a shower, a change of clothes and then a cleaner’s for my clothes later. It was a rough haul through Malmalam. Five chicatrice, three basilisks, and a Red Giant. The last took out the middle, but that was a fight enough even with Aranea helping.”

“Highwind?” Ignis replied, eyebrows lifting from behind his glasses. “Interesting. I’d heard she was doing some solo work, but I hadn’t thought it was hunting. And with you, no less.” _Wow, Ignis, thanks, that was harsher than usual._ “Rest as you wish. The shower is upstairs and you might find something that would fit you. There is also food and drink in the kitchen. If you will excuse me, there is a task I must tend to. Back in a while.”

And then he slipped out the door into the shadows, leaving Prompto standing in the room wondering just who was crazier: himself or Ignis. Maybe he should have found somewhere else to stay. Oh hell with it, he was tired, safe, and it would be an offense to leave now after Ignis had made him welcome. Or as welcome as his old friend could manage. Ghost indeed.

Prompto sat on the sofa, intent on looking around before he slept, but sleep had other plans, and he fell to it before he even managed to lie down.

 

It wasn’t sound that woke Prompto later, it was the lack of sound combined with the feeling that someone else was in the room. He opened his eyes and looked around, seeing nothing but knowing he wasn’t alone. After a few minutes, he sat forward and winced. Sleeping upright never failed to leave his back more miserable than not.

“Are you feeling rested?” Prompto probably would have yelled if he hadn’t known whose residence he was in. As it was, he just jumped. Badly. And then was privately kind of glad that Ignis couldn’t see that. Which then made him feel ashamed of himself. “It’s been several hours and I was beginning to worry you’d been injured.”

“Yeah, sorry…” Prompto stretched to try to ease the stiffness in his back. “It’s been a while since I’ve had any real sleep. Hell, it’s been a while since I was safe enough to try to sleep.” The lighthouse didn’t count. Aranea Highwind in her underwear flashed before his eyes and he gulped. “Thanks, Ignis. I know I’m intruding.”

The couch made an old and somewhat odd creaking sound as Ignis sat next to Prompto. “Not at all. It is good to have old friends near.” Prompto tried to read Ignis, but couldn’t see his face well enough. After all, given that Ignis didn’t need lights, the place was pretty dark. “If you’d prefer a lamp, Prompto, there’s one on the side table.”

It always made Prompto’s skin crawl, how Ignis knew what he was thinking, even without being able to see him. Count another reason they called Ignis ‘Ghost.’ He moved in shadow, knew what people were thinking, and could kill a mid-sized daemon at thirty paces without breaking a sweat. Ignis had been skilled before, but now? Now he was downright _dangerous_.

“Yeah, thanks man,” Prompto stood, if for nothing else than to put a little bit of space between himself and the man it was rumored took out twelve imps in a single blade-based attack. It took a moment for him to find the lamp in question and flip the switch, and then he took the opportunity to look around the apartment.

It was small, uncluttered, and just a touch on the comfortable side of austere. It was fitting, Prompto thought, that the apartment was so much like the man who lived there. "So... uh... nice place you've got here, Ignis. Kind of homey... in a vaguely 'you' sort of way." And once again, Prompto felt like an idiot. His hand snaked up against the back of his neck and he sighed. "Yeah, sorry."

Ignis snorted softly from his seat on the sofa, and a faint smile touched his lips. "It is good to 'see' you too, Prompto. Apologies for my standoffishness; I was ill prepared for your visit, and my mind was elsewhere. Forgive me?” The taller man held out a hand, as if expecting Prompto to shake it.

Prompto turned to look from the hand to Ignis’ face, and rolled his eyes, even though he knew Ignis couldn’t see him. Then he grabbed him by the hand, pulled him up and hugged him. “You idiot, as if you had to ask.”

He felt the other man stiffen for a moment, and then with a faint harrumph, Ignis hugged him back. After a moment, he stepped back and if he hadn’t known Ignis was blind, Prompto would have sworn he was looking at him. “Now, go shower and I will fix us both a meal and you can tell me what brought you here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Shiva’s tits, Ignis!”
> 
> May I just say I giggled for a while after my brain played that line in Robbie Daymond's voice?


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, this was incredibly difficult to write both for content and for the day job eating my soul. (Also oral surgery, but you don't need teeth to write.)

When Prompto found the bathroom upstairs, it didn’t surprise him that there was a small assortment of clothing set to the side for his perusal. What surprised him was that most of it wasn’t anything Ignis would have worn on a laundry day. Black pants of some sort, shorts, a white shirt with silver streaked across it… he froze, recognizing the shirt with a sudden flip in his stomach.

This wasn’t Ignis’ clothing. This… this was Noct’s. Prompto couldn’t wear this… it wasn’t that it wouldn’t fit, it was just… it was _Noct’s_. And Ignis still had it nearly six years later. A little bit of Prompto’s heart broke and he set the shirt to the side. He couldn’t. He just _couldn’t_. A few more moments looking through the collection, and he turned away. This was all Noct’s clothing. Maybe his shirt was dry from earlier.

Prompto moved down the stairs and fished his shirt out of the bundle on the back of the motorcycle. It was clean enough, smelled a little like the soap from Caem, and thank Titan, was mostly dry. He’d wear it with the pants he currently had on and just make it work. He had some gil; he’d buy a couple of things here if he had to. There was no way in hell he was going to wear Noct’s clothing.

Back up the stairs he walked, ignoring the clothing now in slight disarray on the sink counter, dropping his shirt on the back of the toilet. He started the water, stripped, and then stepped in to the stream of hot water. The shower he’d taken at Caem had been cold for multiple reasons. This shower was a sheer luxury that he indulged in.

 

Fifteen minutes later found Prompto, skin bright red from the heat of the water, dressed in his shirt and the pants Aranea had loaned him, parked in the kitchen while watching Ignis. “If you tell me where the clothing should go, I’ll put it away for you.” He didn’t want to mention he’d recognized it, not that he had any suspicions that Ignis hadn’t known it was Noct’s.

“Quite all right, Prompto. I’ll put it away. Did you find any of use?” Ignis replied as he cracked an egg into the rice he was cooking, setting the shell to the side without error. Prompto reached for it to throw it away, but Ignis sensed the movement and shooed the blond away. “That goes in the compost, Prompto. I’ll take care of it.”

"I'm afraid it just won't suit me... I'm not the same scrawny little kid I was back when we headed out." And that was _Noct's_ clothing. Not mentioning that. "I'll pick some stuff up in the market as soon as I can. I've got some gil, should be able to swing a few things." Prompto poked at the cheese that Ignis was cutting and grinned when Ignis grunted at him.

Ignis waved at the table to the side. "Sit there and I'll be done in a moment. I apologize that it isn't much, but I'm afraid I wasn't expecting guests." He plated the cheese and then added some smoked garula and some crackers. "Have you heard from Gladio as of late?"

"Nope, not a sound directly. Heard a couple of weeks ago that he was down in Altissia checking things out, but I don't know how that shook out." Prompto moved to the table and sat as he spoke. "It's just me, myself, and I." He watched as Ignis moved unerringly through the kitchen, and reflected that in his own habitat, it didn't even seem that Ignis was blind. “Dude, you’re amazing.” The soft snort from the taller man was an old familiar sound, and it made Prompto smile reflexively.

“No, I’m not amazing, Prompto. You are. You have risen in the face of adversity and become quite the accomplished solo Hunter.” Ignis turned away from the counter and placed the plate on the table. “A light repast. Do help yourself. I’ll pick up some supplies after some rest.” A pitcher of water and two glasses were collected and presented before Ignis moved to sit across the table from Prompto. After pouring the drinks, Ignis selected a cracker, placing some cheese atop and then lifting it to his lips.

Prompto offered a quiet thanks, and then took a cracker and loaded it up. It was pretty good, all things considered. Then again, Ignis had frequently remarked on hunger being the best spice. “Pretty good, Ignis,” he said before making another. “Missed your cooking.”

“Can’t say this is precisely cooking, but I will take the compliment in the spirit in which it was offered,” Ignis replied, leaning back in his own chair. “You’ve been keeping well enough, otherwise?” There was still too much separating the pair of them, too many words, too many years. They’d never be as close as they had been while traveling the world with Noctis. They couldn’t. Not anymore. Without Noct, they’d self-destructed.

“Yeah,” Prompto replied, taking a sip of water. It wasn’t cold, but it was clean and clear, which was good enough for him. “I can actually pitch a tent by myself now. Don’t much care to though… I’ve gotten used to finding high ground and catching a nap here and there. It’s made me understand why Noct used to warp up somewhere high and just sit for a while.” _Just to get away from it all_ , the prince had said once. “My favorite place to sleep is-“

“Atop the lighthouse at Caem,” Ignis finished, to Prompto’s surprise. “Cor said he’s found you up there several times, don’t look so surprised.” There was something of a small smirk on the blind man’s face as he picked up a slice of cheese and ate it without the benefit of a cracker. “Contrary to popular belief, I do care about my companions.” A careful dance around the word ‘friends.’

Prompto didn’t know what to say to that. He really didn’t. So instead of arguing or fussing, he ate another cracker and downed half the water before he cleared his throat. “Yeah,” He was saying that a lot. Must be nerves. “So, um. Tell me where to put things, and then I’ll get out of your hair. I could use some more shuteye on your couch before I tackle the streets and the market.”

“If you put things away, I shall never find them again, Prompto. Please, just leave it to me. I will take care of the kitchen and then leave you to rest,” Ignis replied quietly, motioning Prompto away. “If you would prefer the bedroom, feel free. I am fully rested and changed the sheets earlier.”

“Dude, not sleeping in your bed,” Prompto’s quip was out faster than he’d meant it, much like how it had been in the old days with the four of them. He hated this estranged distance between them, but understood it far too well. “Don’t think I’d know what to do in a bed anymore. I’d probably lie in it, lost.” Wasn’t that the truth. He’d stayed in a camper a while back and ended up sleeping on the floor because even the hard mattress wasn’t hard enough.

“As you will, Prompto,” Ignis rose and began gathering the dishes. Prompto watched for a few minutes, and then excused himself from the table and went back into the front room to settle onto the couch. He hadn’t thought he was that tired, just wanted out of the awkward moment, but the moment he lay down and had the blanket over him, the world faded from his awareness.

 

Prompto never slept well anymore. Night terrors haunted him, things twisted from memories of hunts and daemons he’d felled. Sometimes they looked like Noct being eaten away like Ravus was, hell bent on destroying everyone who had ever cared. And sometimes the dreams were just normal terror-inducing things like a daemon-chocobo that had started out perfectly normal underneath him but was now trying to eat his face.

At least he was over the ‘waking up bolt upright and screaming at the top of his lungs’ phase. He’d gone through the ‘jolting himself awake and counting something nearby’ phase, and was well into the ‘simply open his eyes and accept the broken world around him’ phase. Which was what he’d done on Ignis’ couch less than five minutes ago. The lamp at his feet was on, and the blanket was half off of him. The back of his hand was resting against his forehead, and the right leg of his pants was ruched up almost to his knee.

Ignis moved into view, a mug in his hands. “You’re handling those better,” he remarked, setting the mug on the small table and then crossing back to the chair in the corner, taking up his book once more. It was an embarrassment and a reassurance that Ignis had remembered. “The tea should help, drink it slowly and relax.”

Prompto sat up and sighed, taking the mug into both hands and looking into the depths of the liquid. “We’re no good anymore, are we, Ignis? Without him.” Without Noct. “Just a couple of strangers that happened to share the same path for a while.” He took a breath, then sighed, moving the mug back to the table and rising. “I appreciate the hospitality, but I shouldn’t be here. This was a mistake.”

Ignis put his book down and looked over towards Prompto. His sightless gaze missed by only a few inches, and if the blond hadn’t known to look, would he have noticed? “Prompto, what happened to you?” He stood now, walking across the room as if he could see perfectly, and rested a hand on Prompto’s shoulder. “It pains me, how you’ve changed. It is as if your light has gone out as well.”

Prompto wanted to shake him off, to get free of the milky green gaze that was piercing and unsettlingly unaware at the same time. “I guess it has, Ignis. After a certain level of pain, you just stop feeling it, you know? And nothing seems to reach you and that’s okay too. It lets you keep going.” He shrugged, moving away from Ignis’ reach. “And that’s what we need to do, right? Keep going until Noctis gets back. So that’s what I’ll do.”

The smaller blond stood straight, squared his shoulders and walked over to his motorcycle. He kicked the stand up and turned to roll the bike towards the door when he saw Ignis standing between himself and the door. “Set the bike down and talk to me, Prompto. What happened to you? And I’m not talking about the past years. I’m talking about between now and the shower you took upstairs.”

It all became too much for Prompto and he set the bike back down on its stand and looked at Ignis, fighting back tears. “The clothing upstairs, Ignis. You laid out _Noct’s_ old things. And I can’t bear that.” His voice broke and he had to clear it to continue, closing his eyes against the tears that were falling that Ignis couldn’t see. “Maybe you can, but I _can’t_. So just let me go and I’ll never-”

Prompto’s last words were muffled into Ignis’ shoulder as the taller man moved into his space and brought his arms around him. There were no words, just the warmth of the embrace and scent of Ignis’ soap. And oddly, Prompto found that it was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we have a few hints of the Things That Went Wrong, and the gaps between the boys who were forced to become men far too soon. Sometimes when the thing that held you together is gone, it becomes too painful to remain without it.


	5. Chapter Five

“Prompto… my apologies,” Ignis’ voice sounded deeper when an ear was pressed to the man’s chest. “It was not my intent to have Noctis’ clothing laid out. I had thought the clothing I’d pulled belonged to someone else.” There was a rueful hint in his voice, and Prompto drew himself together enough to pull back and look at Ignis.

“Someone… else?” _Like who?_ “I thought you lived alone.” At least, there wasn’t anything in the apartment that made it look that Ignis had a roommate. Hell, many of the campers they’d overnighted in together had some decorations at least. Sometimes it was a photograph, other times a sketch of varying skill. Every so often, they’d found flowers dried on the countertops, as if left by someone who had intended to come back for them. Those had stopped showing up after the sun fell for the final time.

Ignis moved, leading the conversation back into the front room, where he sat in his chair once again. “I have a…” there was a pause, as if Ignis was searching for an appropriate term, which surprised Prompto, considering. “a companion,” he finished, and then amended himself. “A lover.” That was surprising. “but we don’t share domiciles. Nor are we entirely exclusive.”

_Wow, waaay too much information, Iggy._ “Uh… right. So this companion has things here and you were going to let me wear them.” And suddenly Promoto had an entirely different train of thought as he sat on the couch. Ignis had a lover that had clothing that Prompto could wear. _Oh._ And suddenly a lot of things made sense. “Okay.” There was something in the air, and before Ignis could speak, Prompto plunged ahead, knowing that it had taken a leap of faith for Ignis to open up to him, of all people. “Just as long as he treats you right.”

And just like that, the tension snapped. As Prompto watched, Ignis’ body language changed from guardedly hostile to something a little less tight. “Have no concern on that from me, Prompto. As I said, we aren’t exclusive and that offers certain… freedoms.”

He understood Ignis better now, though. “So… man. I guess that’s where you went when I got here?” Prompto wiped his nose with a tissue from the table and sat back on the couch, looking at Ignis. The other man’s body language was still reserved, and there was a wet wrinkled spot on his shoulder where Prompto’s face had been.

“Indeed. I wanted to warn him if he came by. He’s… noisy when he arrives, to make certain I know it is him.” Ignis replied, his fingers steepled, elbows on his knees. “He said he would give us space, however, concerned that you might find it awkward.”

_As if this wasn’t awkward enough_ , Prompto reflected, and then grimaced at his own line of thought. “I… can see how that could be really, _really_ awkward. I mean, I’m okay with you having a relationship; hell, I’m glad someone’s got safety and stability. Doesn’t mean I want to walk in on it or run roughshod over someone’s date night. And I am even more grateful for this couch.” Because he truly didn’t want to think about Ignis’ bed now.

The ghost of a smile flickered on Ignis’ lips and Prompto leapt off of the couch. “Oh _Six_ , Ignis… really? I mean… _really_?? That’s it, I’m sleeping on the floor because… _really????_ ” _Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, oh gods, no don’t think about it._ The blond was trying to decide where else he could sit when he noticed Ignis was laughing.  “ _The floor too??_ ” The table might be safe, though it barely looked like it could hold Prompto’s weight.

And that was when Ignis completely lost it. His head was in his hands, his shoulders shaking and strangled sounds the only clue that Prompto had. And he stood there, for a moment, taking in the other man’s reaction, realizing that he’d accomplished the damn near impossible, before that warmth flickered in his heart again. He’d made Ignis laugh. It made him start laughing too.

“No, dude, seriously,” Prompto gasped, trying to reign in his thoughts. “As long as you’re happy and it’s good? That’s what matters to me. I think we both know by now that I’m the last person to say anything about anyone else.” _So, MTs, they’ve got those codeprints, just like I do…_ “Besides,” Prompto grinned, even though Ignis couldn’t see it. He could hear it. “That means I don’t have to worry about competition with Aranea.”

The undignified snort from Ignis was well worth the jab. “I believe, Prompto, the only competition you will encounter with Aranea Highwind is against yourself.”

“Hey!” Prompto tried to be offended, really he did, but Ignis was entirely correct, and Prompto knew it. Especially after the whole underwear affair. “Oh man… I don’t even know how I’m going to look her in the face. Back in the lighthouse… you can’t imagine. Both of us, covered in daemon guts. She showered and walked around in her underwear like it was nothing.”  


“Just don’t look,” Ignis deadpanned, and Prompto groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Seriously, Prompto, someone like Aranea isn’t going to be concerned with that. I’d imagine that operating out of that ship has everyone in such tight quarters that any body image issues quickly got left behind. Much as your own did with us.”

Now it was Prompto’s turn to snort. “Barcodes aren’t sexy, dude.”

“Tattoos can be. I recall Gladio’s being quite mesmerizing at times.”

“Ignis!”

The laughter lasted a little longer after that.

 

When Ignis and Prompto made it down to the market, it was bustling and filled with people trading anything and everything. Prompto's head felt like it was going to fall off as he looked from one booth to the next, agog at the various items available. "Wow, and I thought they had everything before. This is amazing."

"It is barely controlled chaos," Ignis agreed, and led them around and through with unerring skill. Once the location of a seedy little diner, the back nook of the market was home to a small collection of vendors that had set up shops. "Here we are, Prompto, take a look around and see what you find here. I'll be over there," Ignis waved a hand towards the farther corner.

It took no time for Prompto to find several things he liked... a new set of pistols, a few shirts, and a new pair of jeans. He had more than enough gil to cover it, and after paying, he located Ignis and paused before heading over to the man. "Damn, Ignis, this is _awesome!_ " He spun one of the new pistols, grinning madly.

"Careful, you’ll do yourself a damage with that,” a voice purred from behind Prompto and he nearly dropped the gun, turning with wide blue eyes to see Aranea Highwind smiling at him. A presence moved up behind him, and the steel blue eyes that had been watching Prompto shifted gaze to the right and behind. “Well… if it isn’t the Ghost himself. How _are_ you, Ignis?”

“I am as well as can be expected, Aranea. And you?” There was a measured coolness in the accented voice that Prompto picked up but Aranea seemed to disregard. In fact, Prompto was pretty sure the air immediately around them had cooled off by a few degrees. Count _another_ reason why they called Ignis ‘Ghost.’

Those wry lips twisted into a sardonic smile and Aranea looked from Ignis back to Prompto. “Oh, I’m fine, thanks to Prompto. He saved my life, and I owe him a date.” Even though Ignis couldn’t see her, she winked, making Prompto laugh nervously. “So… I’m in town for a while, and whenever you’re ready, you can find me in the Quad north of the Leville. Just ring the bell and you’ll be let in.” She didn’t stick around for an answer, just turned and walked away with a little wave of her hand.

“Prompto?”

“Yeeeah, probably going to die now. I might have made her promise to go out to dinner with me in the heat of battle.” Prompto swallowed, wishing he could feel the warmth of Lestallum wrapped around him again. Ignis was way too close and it was entirely too cool at the moment. “I was pretty sure we weren’t going to make it, and you know, it’s nice to go out on a high note. Asking a girl out just sort of seemed the thing to do.”

“And now, you must live up to expectations. You are a lucky man.” Prompto flinched at those words. He’d heard them before, in Galdin Quay. “Did you at least acquire something worthy of wearing with the lady?” The tone in Ignis’ voice indicated that he was certain Prompto hadn't. He'd be entirely correct. As usual. “Right. Come along, Prompto. We can’t have you going out on a date looking like something the malboro dragged home. Keep up.”

Yeeeeeeup. Going. To. Die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One doesn't have to be able to see in order to know that Prompto is in waaay over his chocobo-butt head.


	6. Chapter Six

Two hours, and some amazing haggling skills later, Prompto had something that almost resembled nice clothing. Prompto himself had drawn the line at dress pants, given that he was a Hunter by trade and what did a Hunter need with such things?

“Now, Prompto, be polite, be interested, and _above all else_ , remember that she isn’t one of the guys. She’ll get that enough from her crew.” Ignis was only trying to help, Prompto knew that, but it wasn’t doing anything for his nerves. He was out of his league and in over his head.

“Maybe… maybe I can just pass it off as a bad joke and we can all just go our separate ways?” Prompto looked at himself in the mirror that he still didn't understand _why_ Ignis had. A nicer pair of black jeans than he’d had before, and a black dress shirt with skulls at the collar and wrists. He hadn’t worn this much black since he’d left Insomnia. Even though Ignis had helped, Prompto still didn’t see why Aranea would want to go out with him. It was probably an honor thing. She’d given her word, so she was stuck with it too.

Ignis sighed, leaning back in his chair. He’d done what he could to help the blond, but the rest was on Prompto. “Have some confidence, Prompto. If I haven’t managed to give in to the desire to poison you in all these years, there must be something she will find endearing. Noct did, after all.”

Ignis had a strange sense of humor; at least that was what Prompto had told himself repeatedly. After all, the man was so dry he had a hard time figuring out what was a joke versus what wasn’t. “Dude, I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” The cryptic smile on Ignis’ lips wasn’t helping either.

With a faint chuckle, Ignis rose and walked over to Prompto, resting his hand on the younger’s shoulder as he had so many times before. “You’ll do just fine, Prompto. Aranea doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who does anything she doesn’t want to.” He patted the man, and then moved past him, heading for the stairs. “Good luck, and I won’t worry if you don’t come back this evening.”

 _As if_ , Prompto snorted. But, he’d made a promise and he was going to stick to it. Dinner with Aranea. Dinner with a woman who very probably had more men chasing her than Noct had girls fawning on him in high school. That train of thought didn’t help. Prompto took a deep breath, steadied himself, exhaled, and headed for the door. Taking down a bandersnatch by himself seemed so much easier right now.

 

She was waiting for him when he got there, and she wasn’t wearing her armor. Her hair was up in a ponytail, and with dark grey pants and blouse, she looked nothing like the badass fighter he knew she was. She looked… well, she looked normal. “Come on in, Prompto,” she said, moving out of the way so he could enter her room.

It was small, almost as austere as Ignis’ apartment, but somehow felt more welcoming. Perhaps it was just her presence. The kitchenette reminded him of some they’d used in campers, but he reasoned that she didn’t live here full time, so it was probably enough. “Nice place,” he commented, looking around. “Just enough space.”

“I bought it back before everything went to hell, called it an investment in a future. Glad I did… housing was tight for a while. Still is, don’t get me wrong, but the construction they’re doing around the other side of the power plant should help alleviate things next year.” She fished her phone off of the counter and flicked a few things on the screen. “Hang on.”

Prompto recognized the sounds of King’s Knight immediately, and the words were out of his mouth before he could help them. “You play King’s Knight? I haven’t played in forever. I didn’t think anyone played anymore.” Nerves forgotten, he moved over to peer at her screen, tracking her actions from upside down.

“Biggs and Wedge play, so I started a little while ago. Gave us something to do aboard ship. I’m still catching on, but it seems fun enough. Except harvesting. I hate harvesting. I always forget,” She swiped the screen again, ending the game, and looked at Prompto. “What?”

He was so excited about the fact that she played King’s Knight that he forgot to be nervous. “You are so cool, and totally out of my league. What are you even doing with me?” Of course the moment the words escaped him, he wanted to slap both hands over his mouth and slink off into the shadows.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid-_ his train of thought was interrupted by Aranea smiling at him. “Prompto, you’re sweet. There’s something about you that makes you one of the good guys, and they’re few and far between. Now come on, let’s go get something to eat before I turn all sentimental.” She grinned and led them to the door.

 

Aranea, it turned out, was a girl of simple pleasures. She’d led them through the twisty paths of darker Lestallum to a food stall that Prompto wouldn’t have even noticed without her pointing it out. The food it served, on the other hand, was sinfully divine. It was almost as good as Ignis’ cooking, but Prompto would never let that be known. “How did I not know about this place?” Prompto asked, the third empty stick of charred behemoth set to the side. “Because this is absolutely amazing.”

“It’s not exactly on the main drag, Prompto,” Aranea pointed out, waving back at the way they’d arrived. “I know a few people on the construction crews and they told me to try it one day. It’s worth the walk, but if you look off over there, that’s where the new residences will be. They haven’t announced the name yet, but I’m betting that it’s going to be one of those tediously honorific names that gets shortened by the residents. Kind of how the Quad did.”

Prompto, who wasn’t up on all things Lestallum, just looked at Aranea owlishly from over the fourth stick of meat he’d just bitten into.

Aranea shook her head, laughing, and shrugged. “It’s the Cleigne Heights Quadrangle.” When Prompto snorted, she agreed. “Yeah, it was pretty pretentious, I agree, but the price was right when I bought in.” She took a bite from her rice bowl and sighed. “Sometimes I almost wish I hadn’t. I mean, I bought in right before everything went to hell and it’s hard to not associate the two. Go figure, right? A Niff buys a place in Lucis and the world dies.”

Prompto choked on the mouthful of meat he’d been swallowing, and it took a few moments to compose himself. He’d forgotten that Aranea was like him, Niflheim born and bred. He hadn’t noticed a barcode, and belatedly realized that his was perfectly visible that very moment. It took all his concentration to not move to cover it, but his eyes betrayed him. He glanced at it, and as a result, ended up turning his wrist away from her slightly.

“Prompto,” Aranea sighed, “don’t. I know. Knew. Didn’t care then, don’t care now. You’re a stinking ray of light in this damned place, so don’t you dare think that tattoo means anything more than ink on skin.” She took a drink from her glass and winked at him. “Besides, tattoos can be really hot, don’t you know?”

Prompto was certain that he was going to die, either by choking or embarrassment. Right now, a combination of both was trying to do him in.

 

They walked for a while after finishing their meal, Prompto wondering what he could possibly say to Aranea. He was just Prompto Argentum, friend of Noctis. Crownsguard without a crown to guard. And she… she was the lethal fighter who had stood up against the Empire, left their service and survived to fight for the oppressed and displaced. What the hell did he have that could possibly mean anything to her?

They were heading towards the Quad, he realized, and just as he was opening his mouth to ask if perhaps they should call it a night, her hand reached out and took his, fingers entwining as if a completely normal thing. “Let’s go on out to the outlook, see what the night is doing. Haven’t seen the stars in a while, but who knows, maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Prompto was so glad it was dark, though it felt as if his ears were providing enough light to read by in the darkest of nights. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quiet. “That would be nice,” and if a daemon ventured too close, he had his pistols at the ready. They weren’t the new ones; those wouldn’t enter his armiger without Noct there to pass them through, but the ones he had were good enough. Two years ago, they’d still been top of the line.

When they got to the outlook, it was quiet. Most people were afraid to go so far away from the lights, even if it was only just across the street and down a flight of steps. They had yet to hear of a daemon attack this close to Lestallum, but the argument could be made for it happening. _But not tonight, please_ , Prompto found himself asking the Six, even though he doubted they could hear him. _Let me have this night, okay?_

“Ever wonder what we’d be doing if this stupid war hadn’t been started?” Prompto asked after a long lull in which they had both just watched the darkness. Oh he knew full well that he wouldn’t exist, but it was a good ice breaker. “I think I’d have run a chocobo farm bigger than Wiz. Chocobos of every color, heck, I’d have a whole flock of black ones.”

Aranea laughed softly and shook her head. “I’ve never actually given it much thought. I’m not one for dreaming.” At his crestfallen expression, she waved her free hand. “But now that you mention it, I think I might have been a historian. One of those that goes tromping into caves and old ruins to look at the architecture and try to figure out what changed and why we lost everything.”

“Man, you’d have loved the depths of Costlemark. It was insane in there. You know how Steyliff had the water suspended above us? Costlemark tower actually is a tower in reverse. It’s bizarre, and I have no freaking clue how they did it. Maybe we can go one day…” he paused. “When the sun is back.” Okay, the idea had less excitement now.

She smiled and gave his hand a little squeeze. “I think I’d like that, Prompto. But just as long as you went with me. I’d need a tour guide, after all.” She smiled broader when he searched her face, and then she leaned in to kiss his cheek. “This has been fun, and I’m not just saying that. I enjoyed dinner and our walk.” Her fingers released his and she ran her fingers up his hand, touching the barcode briefly before moving back and away. “We’ll do it again, okay? It’s a promise, Prompto.”

Prompto stood there, feeling the touch radiate up his arm from his barcode like lightning. She liked him. She LIKED him. His grin was even brighter than the one he’d given her in Malmalam. “Yeah, a promise. Good night, Aranea.” And he watched her leave, grinning like a damn fool. She liked him.


	7. Chapter Seven

He tried to sneak in quietly using the keycard that Ignis had given him. Slip it through the reader, wait for the light, then quietly open the door and close it behind him. His goal was to strip down to his boxers in the dark and collapse on the couch without alerting Ignis to his arrival. He hadn’t counted on Ignis sitting in the darkened front room, fingers trailing along a book as he read. “Back so soon? Did it not go well?”

Prompto sighed. “Dude…” He shook his head in the darkness and settled on the couch. “Not even going to lie. That was probably the scariest thing I’ve ever done.” He held it in for two seconds and then had to grin. “But it was totally worth it!” He watched Ignis fold the book around his fingers and beamed, though the other man couldn’t see. “She kissed me on the cheek and promised we’d do it again.”

Ignis’s smile was reflexive, and he nodded in approval. “Well done, Prompto. I am glad to hear that everything worked out well. The first date is always the hardest. Next time, as you say, things will be easier. Much as it is with most things in life.” He closed the book properly now and set it to the side. “A celebratory drink, perhaps? I believe I have a vintage entirely appropriate.”

Before Ignis could rise, Prompto’s phone was alerting with a series of texts. Surprised, Prompto offered a “hang on,” before reading the screen. “It’s Meldacio. They want to know where I am.” He fired off a response that he was in Lestallum, and the reply came immediately: all Hunters nearby were needed in Pallareth to help fight down the lakhmu flan that had appeared. What it was doing outside of a cave was beyond Prompto, but he was close enough to reach it.

“Sorry, Ignis. I’ve got to take this… there’s something between us and Meldacio and it needs to be taken down.” He paused, and then started unbuttoning his shirt. He certainly wasn’t taking on anything in this clothing. “Actually… you want to come along? Could use your brain.”

“Are you changing? Give me a minute and I’ll be back down,” Ignis replied, rising from his chair and moving purposefully towards the stairs. “Did they indicate what it was?” He didn’t wait for Prompto to reply, and the blond expected that Ignis’ hearing was sufficient enough to hear him from the front room.

“Lakhmu flan, according to HQ. I’m loaded up on starshells.” It didn’t take Prompto long to get back in his Hunting gear. He spared a worry for Ignis on the motorcycle, and stood in the hallway looking at it. “Uh… Ignis? Do you think you’ll be all right on the back of the bike?” They could probably swing a transport with other Hunters if necessary.

“Should be, as long as I hold on tightly enough.” He appeared at the top of the stairs, black slacks and shirt. Prompto never understood how Ignis could fight in dress pants, but the man had mastered it early in their travels and then proceeded to make it an art. “I trust you.”

That, all things considered, was high praise from the man. Prompto remembered a certain car that he’d only gotten to drive once. “Wow, way to put on the pressure, man. No worries; I don’t ride the same way when I’ve got a passenger.” And with Ignis on pillion, the blond would be extra careful. Better to arrive late than not at all. HQ would just have to deal.

He was in the process of rolling the motorcycle out of the door when a man in a strange assortment of clothing came running up and looked at him. “You Prompto Argentum?” The accent was familiar, and Prompto paused to look at him, considering how best to answer this.

“Could be, depending,”

“Aranea says to get your ass down to the lookout and she’s not waiting long. There’s an all-hands Hunt and you need to give her your number.” The man was clearly out of breath, and not a Hunter, but a likely messenger that had been sent to retrieve him. “So grab your gear and go.”

“Ignis!” Prompto pushed the motorcycle back inside the apartment and turned to look up the stairs. The man had vanished again, but at Prompto’s call, reappeared at the top step. “Aranea’s got transport but we’ve got to hurry. Come on,”

“On my way,” Ignis replied, disappearing once more only to reappear with a small bag at his shoulder. “I’ve a few of those new chemical weapons. I was hoping for a chance to use them and this seems an ideal opportunity.” He was down the stairs faster than Prompto expected him to be and at the door waiting before he had finished the last syllable of ‘opportunity.’ He opened the door and gave a half-turn as if to regard Prompto. “Shall we?”

“Yeah…” Prompto said, grabbing his new pistols and holstering them. Sucked that they weren’t commandable, but this gave him four at hand now rather than just two. He’d change ammunition around while in Aranea’s jumpship. “So these chemical weapons… who’s behind them? I mean, the design?” He stepped outside and watched Ignis lock the door behind them.

 

They headed towards the overlook at a brisk pace, Prompto helping clear a path for Ignis as the blind man spoke. “You might say you’re talking to him. They aren’t as refined as potions or elixirs, but in testing they deliver quite the punch to inorganics. I’m hopeful that they will be effective against physical resistant daemons. A flan is the perfect trial subject.”

“If it does,” Prompto mused, “Think you could adapt bullets or cartridges to deliver the chemicals? ‘Cause that could totally change the field of battle for me.” He could do a world of damage with a properly placed projectile that exploded with destructive chemicals from the inside of a daemon.

The old marketplace was to the right now, and it wasn’t much farther to the main road that passed Lestallum. Cross that, and they’d be at the overlook. Prompto thought he could hear the hum of the jumpship harmonizing with the overhead trolley system.

“I don’t see why not, but it would need to be extensively tested for both safety and efficacy,” Ignis replied, clearly giving it some thought. “Perhaps a hollow structure at the point of the projectile with a concentrated mixture of chemicals designed to explode on impact. But to keep it safe for the gunner, that’s the question.”

The musing carried Ignis all the way to the outlook without missing a beat, and Prompto was relieved to see Aranea standing there on the back ramp of the jumpship waiting for them. “Come on, you’re the last two. Got any new tricks up your sleeve, Ignis? Word is this thing is ugly and not going down easy. It’s got friends, too. Six black flan unless some idiot has managed to slice one fully in half.” And then they’d have seven.

“I have a chemical based bomb, if you will, though I am uncertain as to range and efficacy. Thus far, we have only been able to test it on a concrete wall that was scheduled for destruction. While the wall showed significant damage, it is hard to determine what effects may be on daemons.” Ignis replied, unshouldering the bag once they were safely inside the jumpship.

Aranea stared at him for a long moment, and then shook her head slowly, looking to Prompto. “That was the longest-winded ‘yes’ I have ever heard.” She took a breath, stepped back from the two men and turned her head towards the front of the ship. “We’re dying of old age you two, let’s go.” Back to Prompto and Ignis, she smiled. “Strap in. This ship’s moving.”

Prompto made sure Ignis was settled before he settled himself, and he wasn’t surprised to see that Aranea simply stood by with one hand on a support railing as they took off. She was used to traveling in this box on thrusters, much as he was used to his motorcycle. As long as they stayed steady, which Prompto couldn’t imagine they wouldn’t. It wasn’t like the Empire was going to be going after anyone anymore, not with what he’d seen of the tattered remnants.

Those few civilians who had survived lived in Lestallum now, and they eschewed violence. A rare two or three had joined the Hunters, but all told the same tale: their lives in Niflheim had been made of oppression, fear, and death. That was no way to live, Prompto thought, and he was glad Aranea had gotten out with her men and women. Such a waste of life. He wanted Noct back soon so they could deal with Ardyn.

 

The ship gave a lurch and Aranea leaned back to look towards the cockpit. “All right, kids, this is our stop. Let’s go clean up and get this over with.” The back opened with a grinding metallic sound and Prompto unhitched himself, standing to turn and offer his hand on Ignis’ shoulder. There was a pause, and then the other man accepted the assistance.

“Straight drop, about fifteen feet. Enhance your lance and you could do a serious damage to it,” Aranea said to Ignis, winking at Prompto. “I’ll wait until you’re out of the way, and then hit it with my own attack. Once we’re on the ground, it’s going to be chaos, so keep your ears open.” Ears, not eyes. She wasn’t worried about Prompto.

Prompto pulled his pistol from the armiger and fired off a starshell. “Time to shed some light on things,” and then he bounced out of the jump ship with the new pistols in hand whooping as he managed to land on his feet below. “Ignis, you’re up!” He watched as Ignis summoned his lance, drew his hand across the length of it, imbuing it with power, and then leapt.

In the air, the man was as graceful as he had been before Altissia. Point first, he drove the lance into the lakhmu flan, pushing away to arc over the thing and he would have landed well if the black flan hadn’t been in the way. As it was, Ignis landed on it with a squelching squish and rebounded off the slimy surface to land hard on the ground. Prompto winced and headed his way as Aranea leapt.

Prompto completely missed Aranea’s attack, focusing on getting Ignis back on his feet and out of danger. “Dude, that was _awesome_! I think you almost killed the black flan…” he turned, fired off another starshell as the first was starting to fade, and then nodded. “Yup, that one’s flat.” He hadn’t meant to make the pun, but it was appropriate.

Ignis shook his head, summoned his daggers, cast his enhancements along the blades and nodded to Prompto. “Onward.” And then they joined the battle and there wasn’t much else to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only Prompto would think ‘accidental flan death by squishing’ was awesome.


	8. Chapter Eight

The battle was grueling. Every time Prompto turned around, more black flan were appearing out of Six knew where, and the thing that really bit was literal. They'd get the lakhmu flan decently down in health and the damned thing would eat a black flan and heal itself. Three black flan later and the lakhmu was as good as new. They needed a way to get rid of the black flan.

“Ignis,” Prompto called, and waited for the hail back. When it didn't come, Prompto scurried for higher ground to see if he could spot the other man amongst the chaos. And there he was, back to back with Aranea, boosting her lance attack much as Prompto had, though Ignis was more familiar with the force needed. It was almost like a dance, and completely distracted Prompto from the battle for a moment.

His oof of surprise when he was knocked off his perch by a black flan caught Ignis’ attention, and without missing a beat, he called out to Prompto. “Eyes forward!” The gunner would never understand how Ignis couldn’t hear his own name, but could hear the sound of him landing flat on his ass.

“Yep,” Prompto called back, and then ducking around another black flan, darted over to Ignis’ side. “We’ve got to take out the black flan… the lakhmu is using them as a food source and healing itself. If we can't take the little guys out, we're going to be here forever.”

“Perhaps one of my chemical bombs, then,” Ignis replied, moving his bag on his shoulder and feeling around inside. Prompto watched for a moment, and then he started backing up. He wasn't sure what the range was on these things, and he didn't really want to find out the hard way. “Heads up,” Ignis called, and then lobbed a purple globe into the air.

It exploded about a foot above the lakhmu flan, spitting chemical vapors in every direction. Prompto stood agape, staring up at the miasma, then yelled as Ignis grabbed his arm and started dragging him further back and away. “There's no sense in risking inhalation, Prompto,” Ignis yelled.

The effect on the flan was dramatic. Where the vapor hit, the skin of the flan sizzled and hissed, the flan themselves roaring in pain. Emboldened, Ignis threw another, which Prompto shot out of the sky when it was nearly at the top of its arc. Higher explosion meant a wider range and several of the black flan closer to the lakhmu flan got a double dose and died.

“Wooohooo!” Prompto crowed, “Throw another, Ignis!” When he saw another ball rise into the air, he took aim, fired, and laughed in what might have been perverse delight when the vapor cascaded down on the flan, killing more off.

The lakhmu flan wasn't looking so good anymore. Large chunks of its surface were bubbling and sizzling, and it had clearly tried to eat a few of the black flan that had been hit by the chemicals. By the looks of it, the poisoned flan were causing more harm than good, and the Hunters pressed the advantage they now had.

Aranea landed near Ignis, her hand out. “Give me one of those things, would you? I've got an idea.” After a pause, Ignis passed a ball to her, and she took off into the air. The ball left her hand, starting to drop over the lakhmu flan, and then she took the point of her lance and pushed the ball down as hard as she could, piercing the skin of the flan with the sphere of chemicals.

Prompto stopped breathing.

 

In retrospect, it was a good thing that Prompto had, because the stench of chemical burned lakhmu flan was beyond words. Choking and gagging, the Hunters quickly dispersed, Ignis and Prompto included. Aranea landed nearby, tears in her eyes. “Damn, Ignis, that was inspired, but you really need to work on the smell.”

“The next ones will smell like Sylleblossoms, just for you,” Ignis responded. “I take it they were successful. Was anyone injured?" He’d tried to listen for human reaction, but over the shrieks from the various flan, it was hard.

“Not sure, we’ll have to determine that back at HQ,” Prompto said, looking around to see if anyone near them looked like they'd taken a hit from the chemicals. So far, those he'd seen were moving fine without any indication that they were injured. “Doesn't look like it from here, though. Kick ass, Ignis. That was _awesome_.”

“Pretty impressive,” Aranea agreed. “You ever want to make it a habit to hunt, tell me, Ignis. I'd be happy to have your expertise at hand.” She walked over and eyed both men critically. “And neither of you look injured, so get your asses back over to the jumpship. You going to Lestallum, or Meldacio?”

Prompto couldn’t help but glance to Ignis. “Whatever you want to do, Ignis. I don’t have a home or anyone to miss me, so it’s your call.” He hadn’t intended it to be as harsh as it sounded, but it was true. Without Noctis, Prompto was pretty much nobody. Again.

“You’ve got me, chocobo-butt,” Aranea inserted as Ignis opened his mouth. “Well, sort of. If you keep up the good manners, and I think we can both thank Ignis for that one. So where are we going, Ignis. Your choice.”

Ignis drew himself up, tilted his head towards Aranea, but his words were for Prompto. “Never downplay who you are or what you mean to others. And in case I wasn’t absolutely clear before, let me make it crystalline for you, Prompto. No matter where I am, you are always welcome.”

Prompto ducked his head to hide the tears that had suddenly sparked in his eyes. Even if Ignis couldn’t see them, Aranea could, and he’d been stupid enough around her in the last few hours, thanks. “At the very least,” he said quietly, “I need to swing by Meldacio to pick up my gear.”

“Then it’s settled. We will go to Meldacio and then either I will prevail upon our lovely hostess for a trip back to Lestallum with the promise of my cooking as repayment, or I will fail in my endeavors and Prompto and I shall find alternative transportation,” Ignis said firmly. “After all, your transport is in my front hall, Prompto.”

“Wait, you’re offering a cooked meal by the personal chef of the King of Insomnia and you think I’m turning you down? Sorry, Prompto, I’m leaving you for Ignis,” Aranea quipped, laughing when Prompto’s head jerked up to fix her with an astounded stare, his cheeks turning scarlet.

“Is he blushing, I think I can hear it,” Ignis said idly, shouldering his bag a littler firmer. “Anyway, someone lead the way to the jumpship, please and thank you.” He was looking in the general direction of the ship, but it was a bit too far away for him to hear the hum.

“I…” Prompto’s throat closed around his words and it sort of turned into a squeak. Aranea gave him a look that he almost thought was fond, and he tried again. “I’d cook for you, Aranea.”

“No.” Ignis’ voice was leather coated steel. “You shall do nothing of the sort, especially in my home. Or had you forgotten the time you set Lachyrte Haven on fire trying to make toast?”

Actually, he had, thank you very much. But now that Ignis reminded him of it, he coughed and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry… yeah. But I can manage a few things now. Rice, toast, birdbeast eggs… almost managed one of those rice bowls Noct liked so much the other day.”

Aranea’s hand clasped Prompto’s shoulder. “Come on, loverboy. Let’s get back to the ship and grab your gear. We can argue semantics while Ignis cooks.” She half-led half-dragged the blond until they caught up with the slowly moving Ignis, and then Aranea released Prompto. “About a hundred feet straight ahead, Ignis. Biggs is waiting by the ramp.”

Ignis nodded and moved off purposefully towards the ship now that he had details, and Prompto watched him move. It was almost scary, knowing Ignis was blind and yet seeing how smoothly he walked. The last time he’d seen the man, he’d still had a cane and an air of hesitance about him. So much had changed in such little time. Would Noctis recognize them when he came back?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Did you see what I did there?)


	9. Chapter Nine

Meldacio HQ was busier than normal, and Prompto gathered his things quickly, taking them back to Aranea and Ignis before getting in line to collect the bounties due them. Old Esme knew that he was collecting for Ignis and Aranea as well, so there wasn’t going to be any fuss about that.

From a distance, standing with Ignis, Aranea watched Prompto as he stood in line and joked about with the Hunters nearby. By the motions of his hands, he was describing the chemical bombs that had made the difference in the battle, pointing over to Ignis and then animatedly talking.

When he got to the table where Ezma was counting out the gil, he waited patiently with his hands behind his back, a stance he’d picked up from his travels with Noct. She counted out three stacks of gil, equal amounts, because that’s how Hunting worked. Unless registered as a team, each Hunter was paid separately.

Prompto waited until she was done, and then from the far left stack, he collected some of the gil and put it in his pocket. Then the short stack was merged with the middle stack, and he picked up the two stacks that were left and headed back towards his companions.

“Here you go, Ignis… this is your share,” The larger stack was handed to Ignis, and Prompto turned to Aranea. “And this is yours. I’ve already got mine put away, so you two sort yours quickly and we can get back to Lestallum.” He bent to pick up his bag of gear and froze when Aranea put her hand on his arm. He looked up, blue eyes desperate. _Don’t tell him._

She smiled, a real smile that touched her eyes, and then took some gil out of her stack, bumping Ignis’ arm. “Hey, this is for dinner tonight. I buy, you cook. Sound fair?” She couldn’t look at the grateful expression on Prompto’s face, and instead focused on Ignis.

“That sounds reasonable enough,” Ignis responded, reaching to take the offering. “We can go to the market after dropping off Prompto’s bag. Fresh ingredients are always the best.” The money vanished into his pants pocket and he straightened his shoulders. “Shall we?”

The short walk back to the jumpship was quiet, and Prompto was glad that he didn’t have to try to balance his gear on the back of the motorcycle. He’d gotten better at it lately, but if he was going to be carrying anything else, he really needed to look into a place to store it. Maybe he could find a corner for his spare stuff at Caem. Couldn’t hurt to have a change of clothing there in reserve. He knew Cor did.

When they got to the jumpship, Biggs was there to lend a hand to Ignis, and Prompto moved to the side to stow his bag in the underhatch. Aranea followed him and he yelped in surprise when she turned him and pinned him against the side of the ship. “You.” He blinked at her. “Are the kindest, gentlest man I have ever met, Prompto Argentum. Don’t you dare ever change. Hear me?” And before he could respond, she kissed him.

Later, Prompto would remember that moment as the beginning. But sitting in the back of the jumpship, the only thing he could do was not look at Aranea without blushing, and be incredibly glad that Ignis couldn’t see to tease him about it.

 

The market was packed with people, as usual, and Prompto and Aranea took turns buffering the crowd, giving Ignis the space he needed. They moved from stall to stall, Prompto describing the wares and Ignis occasionally asking to sniff something, or feel another.

At length, he made his decisions and when it came over the amount that Aranea had given Ignis, Prompto pulled out some gil and passed it over. “Hey, no problems. You’re feeding me, you know.” Aranea said nothing, but Prompto could feel her eyes on him. “And I’m sleeping on your couch too.”

That just made Ignis snort softly and shake his head. “Fine, but I’ve told you that you are welcome there. Though while we’re here, you might wish to invest in a pair of earplugs.”

It took a moment for Prompto to realize what Ignis was saying, and his ears went hot. “Yeah, that’s probably an idea. Wow. Um. Really, Ignis?” He couldn’t help but notice the other man’s jaw working, as if he was trying to keep from laughing, and Prompto sighed. He'd let Ignis have his fun, even if he didn’t want to think about the man with a partner. Upstairs. While Prompto was on the couch.

Aranea was snickering softly, and leaned in to whisper against Prompto’s ear. “You can just come over to my place.” The fact that her breath was warm and she’d let her lips trail along the shell of his ear as she spoke didn’t help matters. In fact, Prompto didn’t usually mind the heat of Lestallum, but right now it was way too hot for his tastes.

“Yeah,” Prompto said, his voice threatening to turn into a squeak again. “I’m just going to go grab those earplugs, won’t be a moment. Aranea, just… I’ll catch up with you guys, okay?” And there went his voice, damnit.

 

Leaving the pair to laugh softly, Prompto darted off and found a stall selling earplugs and some other standard household needs. An eye mask wouldn’t make sense, but he did want a pair of new gloves. Once he found what he liked, and added a new leather armband (his bandana was getting ragged) to the pile. He got his total, paid, and took his brown bag of purchases back to where he had left Aranea and Ignis.

They weren’t too far away, and Aranea was describing the pan that Ignis was running his fingers over. He seemed to like what he heard, and handed over the requested amount of gil as Prompto walked up. “New pan, Ignis?”

“It seemed prudent, all things considered. A small pan suffices for one, but when one has company, it isn’t quite enough.” The slight twist of Ignis’ lips made it clear that the play on words was intentional, and Prompto groaned good-naturedly, playing along. “Now, have we acquired everything that we wanted?”

“Not yet…” Aranea said musingly. “What would you say, Ignis… red wine with dinner?” She’d turned to see a wine merchant next to the cooking wares stall and had shifted slightly away from them while Ignis was paying. Now, she was fully in front of the stall, reading labels as she moved.

“Indeed, a red would pair quite nicely with the meal. Have you any preference?” Ignis was completely absorbed by the idea of wine with dinner, and Prompto watched at a loss. His idea of a drink wasn’t quite as low as ‘whatever was near,’ but Prompto certainly hadn’t been exposed to the finer things like Ignis and apparently Aranea. She was _so_ out of his league.

“Ah,” Aranea said, smiling, and pointed to a bottle. “Two… no, three of those please, and one of that as well. Yes, please.” She paid, took her own bag and turned to Prompto with a smile. “Do be a dear, Prompto, and don’t let Ignis carry everything, would you?”

Prompto turned to see Ignis carrying two bags of groceries in one hand and struggling with the odd size of the bag holding the new pan he’d just purchased. “Ah, Ignis, here…” Prompto took the bag with the pan and got waved off with a grumble when he tried to take a bag of groceries as well. “Okay, I can carry the pan. But if you need a hand, you can pass off one of those bags too.”

He grinned when Ignis harrumphed like he used to, and tagged along with the blind man. He’d missed the fellowship, the banter, but most of all, he’d missed his friends. And without Noctis… the newly formed bonds of brotherhood had shattered like crystal.

It dampened his mood somewhat, and he slowed down some, watching Ignis as he moved along, trying not to let the sadness into his eyes. He knew once it started, it wouldn’t stop until tears were streaking down his cheeks. It was hard to stay sunny all the time.

“You have the keycard Prompto, don’t fall too far behind,” Ignis prompted, and slowed his own pace a bit. “Wouldn’t do to stand outside my own home while waiting for you to turn up from wherever that train of thought you’re on takes you.” Ignis was still as astute as ever, and that made Prompto smile a little.

“Yeah, sorry. Right behind you, no worries,” Prompto said, trying to force a little cheer into his voice. “Just got caught up thinking. It’s been a while since I’ve socialized after a hunt. Didn’t think I’d missed it as much as I have. Kinda bittersweet, you know?” He felt Aranea come up beside him, but he didn’t look over to her. Not yet.

“Indeed,” Ignis replied, pushing his glasses up his nose. “But we are here now, and should make the most of it. Come, let us inside, Prompto. Then a glass of wine around and everyone in the kitchen. It will be tight, but a meal shared in preparation is food for the body and the soul.”

Prompto hurried ahead to unlock the door and hold it open. Ignis tried to let Aranea go first, but she insisted he enter his own home before she did. Bemused, Ignis moved past Prompto and then walked on to the kitchen. “Right. Three glasses and the corkscrew coming up.”

Aranea paused next to Prompto and looked to him with sad eyes. “You need to be sad, come to me. We’ll drink, play cards, talk, whatever you need. But that man? He’s sadder than any one of us can ever know, and he’ll never tell us. He’s strong for us, so let’s be strong for him, okay?” Then she bumped him with her hip, winked, and followed Ignis inside.

He stood there for a moment, considering her words. She was right, Ignis was strong. Not once had he seen Ignis break down or show any indication of the pain he had to have felt. Perhaps even still felt. _Suck it up, Sunshine_ , he thought to himself, plastered a smile on his face, and went inside the apartment.


	10. Chapter Ten

Dinner making was moderated chaos. Ignis’ kitchen was small, and when three people were bumping elbows, it became positively tiny. After a few mishaps and near disastrous crashes, Ignis made them put the wine down and pay attention to him.

Aranea was stationed to Ignis’ left, in charge of retrieving utensils and other cooking implements. Prompto was positioned in front of the cooler and the pantry, tasked with handing over whatever ingredient Ignis asked for. That helped, and people stopped running into each other, which was highly dangerous considering Ignis had the knives.

Thirty minutes later, Ignis was satisfied with the meal, and the trio sat in the front room, as the kitchen table had only two chairs and no room for a third person to think about sitting. He’d offered apologies, but Prompto and Aranea were just glad for the food and the fellowship. 

The jabberwock was seared to perfection in long strips, and the various vegetables had been cut thinly and cooked to wilted in the heat. Skins bright, the vegetables still maintained a crisp crunch while the heat had brought out the sugars and made them sweeter for it. Prompto thought he’d never had good quite so good, even back in Insomnia.

Prompto never had been much of a drinker, and his glass of wine was barely half gone. He’d sipped at it here and there, and while it seemed to have a decent enough taste, he didn’t much like the effect it had on him. Couldn’t shoot straight if the world was swaying, and old habits died hard. A beer here and there by the campfire was one thing, but just casually drinking wine like water? No thank you.

Besides, someone needed to make sure Aranea got back to her place safely because she’d had half a bottle of wine on her own, and Prompto wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand without help. At the moment, she was laughing softly at the tail end of a story about Noctis and the Noct Gar. Even Prompto had to chuckle at that one.

“He made us call him Noct Gar for a while after that, too,” Prompto interjected, and that made Aranea laugh all the more. “Fish didn’t taste half bad, either, even though it was huge.” He frowned and tilted his head. “What was it you told Noct, Ignis? Something about larger size losing flavor?”

“That was the rubyshears,” Ignis replied with a snort. “Grouper is an entirely different creature, Prompto.” He touched his glasses in the old familiar way, making Prompto laugh. “But you are correct; that grouper was the finest catch Noct ever made.”

“No way! What about the Liege of the Lake? That thing was massive!”

“And completely inedible,” Ignis countered. “The only salvageable part were the scales, if you’ll recall. A complete waste of a fish. Gladio never should have hauled it out of the water.” The latter was punctuated by Ignis stabbing the air with his fork, and Prompto was glad he wasn’t within range of the tines.

Aranea set her now empty wine glass down, and Prompto looked over to see her rise from her chair. “All right, you two. Simmer down.” She smiled when she said it, so it didn’t carry much sting. “Ignis, you cooked, so just sit back while Prompto and I take care of the dishes.” When Ignis opened his mouth, Aranea tsked. “I remember where everything goes, just sit tight. Prompto, come on.”

She wasn’t even wobbling. How in the hell did she do it? Prompto wondered, getting up from his seat and finding his grip on the world just a little looser than he liked it. “Yeah, give me a second…” he grabbed his own plate and wine glass, then moved towards the kitchen as Aranea took Ignis’ plate from his hands. “I’ll wash, you dry and put away?”

“Works for me,” Aranea replied as she set dishes down near the sink and went back to the living room to retrieve the last few dishes. She returned quickly, and the pair got to work, hurrying so that Ignis wouldn’t be left to his own thoughts for too long while his guests cleaned up.

 

All told, it took twenty minutes for the pair to tidy the kitchen, and then they were back in the front room, Aranea pouring some of the contents of the smaller bottle she’d purchased into even smaller glasses. Prompto wasn’t sure where his wine had gone, but he suspected Aranea had given it to Ignis. At least, Ignis still hadn’t risen from his chair, and the half-full wine glass wasn’t on the table. He hadn’t washed it, either. Huh.

“This is dessert. Very sweet, tastes of rich chocolate. Sip, don’t gulp,” Aranea offered as she handed each of them their glasses.

Ignis was the first to sample it, and if Prompto hadn’t known better, he’d have thought Ignis had just had an epiphany. Seriously, if the man came up with a new recipe from that, Prompto would not be in the least surprised. “That… is quite the taste. Heavily sweetened Merlot with chocolate extract and a hint of vanilla. Remarkable.”

Prompto sniffed it dubiously, and then took the smallest of tastes. Really, he tipped the glass to his lips and stuck his tongue in. It was more than enough for him, and he nearly gagged at the sweetness. It had been a long time since he’d indulged. A _very_ long time. “Wow, that’s like an alcoholic chocolate bar. I don’t think I can even drink that.”

“It can be an acquired taste, yes,” Aranea nodded as she sipped hers. “But don’t feel that you have to drink it, Prompto. I’m sure Ignis will be happy to finish yours off.” The smile on her face was faintly wicked and Prompto had to put the glass down before he fumbled it.

“Yes, push it over this way and I’ll handle it,” Ignis replied, leaving Prompto to turn and stare at Ignis in open mouthed disbelief. Was the man drunk, playing along, or even cognizant of what he’d just said? Or was it all in his head? By the quiet little giggle from Aranea, it wasn’t just in his head.

“I’m not touching that,” Prompto shook his head and shot Aranea a look. She laughed again and pointed Prompto’s attention back to Ignis, who had shockingly finished the glass of dessert wine and was toying the glass in his fingers. “Uh... Ignis, are you okay? I’ve never seen you drink like this.”

“Perfectly fine, Prompto. If a man can’t drink to a sense of complacency in his own home after a battle and a good meal, then where and when can he?” And when Ignis put it like that, who was Prompto to argue?

Aranea reached out and collected Prompto’s glass, traded it to Ignis, and then clinked her glass against the one Ignis now held. “To complacency,” she said, and at Ignis’ quiet ‘indeed,’ she downed her glass of wine.

An hour later, Aranea took her leave, remarkably steady for a woman who had consumed as much alcohol as she had. Then again, Prompto reasoned, she was an ex-military commander who still held the lives of men and women at her call. She’d probably drunk much more with them in an hour than she had here in the three they’d spent in good company.

She’d refused Prompto’s efforts to walk her back to the Quad, explaining that she wasn’t going back straight away, and that she’d catch up with him in a few days. He took that to mean she was headed for the jumpship and gave her a kiss on the cheek, not to be outdone by Ignis, who had kissed her hand.

After she had left, Ignis paused at the foot of the stairs, completely steady on his feet and mused towards the closed door. “A remarkable woman, Prompto. Multifaceted and in her own way, fascinating. She seems to regard you quite favorably. Perhaps there is hope for you yet.”

The quirk of Ignis’ lips told Prompto he was offering a rare joke, and Prompto allowed himself to laugh. “She’s out of my league, Ignis, but if she’s willing to share company, that’s fine with me. A hunter’s life isn’t exactly the kind of life you settle down into, anyway.” He needed to tell Ignis what Esme had said, but now wasn’t the time. Later, after they’d slept. He’d tell Ignis then. “Go on up, Ignis. I’ll get the little bit that’s left and then call it a night."

Ignis nodded and turned to climb the first few steps before turning back. “Prompto. Be here in the morning.” As if the word ‘morning’ had any relevance anymore, but Prompto knew what Ignis meant. “I’d prefer to see you off than allow you to slip away into darkness once again.”

He knew.

How in the hell could he know?

“Yeah, okay, Ignis. See you in the morning.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be mobile and mostly away from the world this weekend, so I apologize in advance for the cliffhanger!! <3


	11. Chapter Eleven

Morning. Or, what passed to Prompto as the morning, given that time was slowly becoming relative to each individual. Morning was whenever Prompto managed more than a scant few hours of sleep. He'd heard Ignis in the kitchen and tugged on his sweatpants before wandering in and offering a greeting. “Hey, Ignis.”

“Morning, Prompto,” Ignis replied. “Coffee?” He offered a mug and waved his hand at the coffee maker. “There's plenty in the pot, help yourself. I was going to make breakfast if you were interested. Protein and grains will give you the energy you'll need for your trip.”

Prompto paused before finally pouring himself a mug of coffee. “How did you know?” The coffee was rich and full bodied, and the blond took a moment to enjoy the warmth as it went down his throat. “I hadn't told anyone.”

“I _do_ have excellent hearing, Prompto, and I heard Esme tell you in Meldacio. You're to go to Hammerhead and help Cindy hold the fort.” Ignis opened the cooler door and retrieved the egg and rice mixture he had pre-cooked before, setting it on the counter and then pulling other smaller bowls out to join it.

“Yeah,” Prompto sighed as he sat at Ignis’ small table. “Couple of years ago, that would have been my dream job. Now? Now I’m not so sure anymore. I kind of liked being a Hunter on the loose without a home base.” He’d grown accustomed to the freedom.

“And you’re certain a particular svelte figure in armor has nothing to do with your change of heart?” Ignis asked lightly, making it clear that he wasn’t being unkind. “As much as Aranea offered to hunt with me, your fighting styles are far more agreeable.” Ignis was the lance-wilder of the group, but after Altissia, Prompto hadn’t seen him call the lance once.

Prompto snorted softly. “Ignis, I think you said it best: Aranea Highwind doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to, and I’m sure ‘settle down in one place’ isn’t on her list.” Whether it be with Prompto or without him. “Besides, we went on one date and one hunt. That might be enough for some people to call a relationship, but it isn’t enough for me.”

Ignis said nothing for several minutes, instead focusing on cooking and allowing Prompto to wander his own thoughts. Finally, when he presented the bowl of food to the blonde, Ignis had found the words he’d been looking for. “Have faith, Prompto. Noct will return, the sun will rise, and you won’t pass the time alone.”

Blue eyes darted up to clouded green, and Prompto voiced his response instead of just nodding. “Yeah, maybe. Kinda hard to keep the faith when you feel like you’re permanently parked on top of a rock and hoping that the enchantments won’t fail you while you’re sleeping.” He stuck his fork in the egg and rice bowl, and began to eat.

“Let us hope, then, that you make it to Hammerhead before you feel the need to rest,” Ignis replied as he sat across from Prompto with his own bowl. “If you need to nap again before you leave, please, feel free to do so.”

“Nah…” Prompto replied. “I’ve slept more since I got to Lestallum than in the past couple of months. If I sleep any more, I won’t get up.” Sleep when I’m dead. “I’ll just take a few to get my stuff repacked and roll out as soon as I can, maybe see if anyone’s going out on patrol and ride with them for part of the way.”

“Which way will you go?” Ignis asked. “Do you bother with the roads on the motorcycle? I hear tales that some of the roads are in bad repair.” He rose and refilled his coffee before turning back to the table and sitting again. It was all so natural that Prompto didn’t even wonder how Ignis didn’t overfill the mug.

“I do ride the roads to help keep track of the places that are falling apart, and if I’m on my own, I’ll go up and around then down through Rydelle and across Alstor. I don’t go past Fallgrove on my own if I can help it… place has gotten even creepier than before. Someone said they saw something like a Red Giant mated with a Behemoth that summoned a sword that moved on its own. Don’t know if I buy into it, but dude, I don’t want to see it for myself unless I have to.”

“That does sound daunting,” Ignis replied and sipped his coffee. “At the very least, please send word back that you arrived safely. I know radio communications are spotty, and phones don’t count as remotely reliable anymore, but I’d appreciate the knowledge that you were safe.”

Prompto grinned at Ignis and knew the man could tell. “I’ll do my best to keep you in the loop of things over in Hammerhead, don’t worry.” He shoved the last mouthful in and washed it down with the dregs of his coffee. “Besides, I’ll expect you to keep me up to date about anything you work up that might be field tested in my pistols.”

 

An hour later, Prompto was ready to leave, standing outside the open door next to his motorcycle, and it was harder than he’d thought it would be. “Thanks, Ignis. For everything. I know things aren’t the best, and I don’t know if we’ll ever hear from…” He paused, and then forced the name out from between his teeth, “Gladio, but if I do… I’ll let you know if you want me to.”

“Please,” Ignis returned quietly. “Not knowing is the hardest. At least… if one knows, then there can be a measure of closure.” He moved to rest his hand on Prompto’s shoulder. “Likewise, what I hear, I will make sure it passes to someone heading to Hammerhead. Now get going, and don’t forget to send word.”

Prompto ducked his head, and clasped Ignis’ arm for a moment. “Take care of yourself.” And before he could say anything else, he turned and walked the motorcycle into the darkness of Lestallum’s twisty little roads towards the main road that would lead him away from the city and into the shadows of Cleigne, away from his friend, and the woman to which he just couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye.

 

He rode the first hour with a patrol of hunters headed to the Duscae border. Once he got to the Alstor Slough area, he headed out on his own, kicking the bike into speeds that would horrify Ignis if he knew. Prompto actually enjoyed the speeds and the wind in his hair. It felt like flying.

The last thirty minutes to Hammerhead were always the scariest. The lights of the outpost were clear but still distant enough to never seem to be getting any closer. By the time they were getting closer, you didn’t trust that you could run to them if you were on foot. Prompto hated this area.

He sped up on the straights, edging off slightly on the curves, laying the bike down as low as needed to keep the speed. One of these days, he’d miscalculate, but that wasn’t today. He righted the bike, took the seat and sped off towards Hammerhead which a determination that replaced his normal thrill.

Down from the upper outskirts of the Malacchi Hills, Prompto flew, swinging into the Northwestern Weaverwilds. He hugged the northern edge of the Three Valleys and entered the Weaverwilds proper. This was the hardest part and he gunned the bike harder and faster. Fifteen minutes, he could try to push it down to eleven.

He made it to Hammerhead in thirteen.

 

Cindy was waiting for him, having seen him on approach, and waved him through the massive gate assembly. “Well hey there, Prompto. Long time. What can I do ya for?” Her eyes were all over his motorcycle, and she ran a finger down the handlebar and tapped his knuckle. “She need a tune-up? Pretty little thing, ain’t she?”

Prompto had never thought of his motorcycle as pretty. He’d acquired it as one does through questionable transactions and quiet deals. It was of Insomnia manufacture, but older and less refined as the newer ones he’d looked at before they’d left on a road trip of rosy dreams and sleepy princes. “If you say so, Cindy. Haven’t given it much thought to be honest. Kept me alive out there, though, so I guess she’s a partner.”

“Only he’d be sentimental enough to call a motorcycle his partner,” rumbled a voice behind him, and Prompto turned around to see Gladio standing there with a hard to read expression on his face. The bigger man didn’t look happy to see him, but the anger that had been there five years ago was gone.

“Gladio… hey, man. Good to see you,” Ignis would have snorted in derision and Noct would have offered a singsong ‘liar’ under his breath, but Prompto was, in a way, glad to see the man. Dave had called it the relief at proof of life. “You hanging around a bit?”

“Nope. Heading to Caem now to meet up with Cor. He’s got a wild hair to swim over to Altissia and see how bad things are there.” Gladio kept his distance and offered an open handed wave to Cindy. “You take care of yourself, Cindy. We’ll swing by when we get back, so leave the lights on for us.” His voice was softer when he spoke to her, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Gladio was still angry.

“You bet!” Cindy replied cheerily, and waved as Gladio jumped into the waiting pickup truck that wasted no time in passing through the gate. The little blonde shook her head at the departing fighter and then turned her bright eyes on Prompto. “Guess he’s still got some things he needs to work out. Sure am sorry about that, Prompto. Maybe a little more time will set things to rights.”

If they survived that long. Prompto didn’t say it. “Yeah, maybe so,” He forced a smile on his face and waved a hand at the outpost. “Old Esme sent me, told me to park myself here and make myself of use to you for a while. So whatever you need, I’m your man.” He had a suspicion that he had just arrived as the replacement, but in the long run, that was probably for the better.

Cindy perked up like someone had plugged in a new light bulb. “Well, you don’t say! That’s just great, come on. We’ve just about finished the barracks and you can pick your bunk. We’ll get you set up here and introduce you to everyone before setting you to work. Have you eaten? Takka’s got behemoth stew on tonight and this batch is the best yet…”

She kept talking as she led Prompto off and he walked his motorcycle along, half listening and half wondering if things would ever get back to something resembling normal in his lifetime. Damn, they needed Noct.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well wasn't /that/ interesting?
> 
> (I'm back from my trip!! Missed you guys!)


	12. Chapter Twelve

Six months passed without Prompto really noticing. Word went back and forth between Ignis and Prompto, and at first they were verbal messages that were carefully phrased. But in the dark moments between building up Hammerhead and skirmishes with daemons, Prompto taught himself to read and write that special language that Ignis had learned. Braille, they called it. Little bumps on paper that turned into words as fingers traced the patterns they made. It was kind of a magic all to itself, really.

It was odd at first, writing backwards, but in time Prompto caught on and like everything else he decided to do, he mastered it. He just wished he could have seen Ignis’ reaction to the first message that was truly just between the two of them. After that, correspondence was a near daily thing, and sometimes if transports were late, Prompto sent out as many pages as he got back.

They conversed about anything and _almost_ everything, with early agreements that relationships remain unmentioned unless necessary. Still, it had made Prompto sad that Ignis was so far from anyone, trapped in Lestallum. Cindy and Takka wouldn’t hear of Ignis moving out to Hammerhead, though. It was too close to the Crown City and far too dangerous. Hammerhead was the first line of defense for the rest of Lucis against the tyranny of Ardyn.

There had been more activity from Insomnia lately, and Prompto was certain that Ardyn was somehow creating the creatures and sending them out to attack Hammerhead in an effort to wear them down. Cor and Gladio had been recalled to assist, and after they struggled with the first few waves, Iris and Aranea had joined in the fray, slowly turning the tide back against the shadows.

Eventually, it had grown quiet again, and on the fourth day of nothing, Prompto found himself face-to-back with Gladio in the Northern tower overlooking the Weaverwilds. In battle it was easy to _not_ talk and just _do_. Up here, just the two of them, it was a hell of a lot harder. But Prompto was Prompto, and he had to try.

“So… uh, how’s it been going with you and Cor?” Prompto tried not to quaver, really he did. He wanted to be firm and strong and if he could manage half of the self-assuredness that cloaked Gladio, he’d be happy. It was hard when the other man wouldn’t look at him. “Guess you’ll be making the rounds back down to Caem shortly?” He followed up when there was no reply.

“Yup,” Gladio grunted, standing at the corner diagonally opposite Prompto. His view was of Hammerhead itself, while Prompto and his pistols watched the outlying areas. When the blond chanced a look to the other man, he saw broad shoulders and a stiff, tense spine. Prompto thought Gladio looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there with him.

The gunner checked the pistol in his right hand, and then looked back out over the sands of the Weaverwilds, trying to think of some way to break the wall of ice that had formed between them. Hell, he hadn’t really even been part of the argument that broke them ( _just the cause,_ ) but he paid the price too. “So… Altissia. I guess it was pretty bad, huh?” He’d heard that Cor and Gladio hadn’t stayed long and returned to Caem within a month of departure.

“Looked that way.” The warrior had never been a man of many words, but he was making Ignis look positively chatty. He didn’t have the air of chill that Ignis was capable of, but he managed to make it abundantly clear that conversation wasn’t on the to-do list.

“Yeah,” Prompto half-replied, wondering if he should give up. He’d tried, and tried some more, and while he could understand the reasons… he just felt sad. He hadn’t felt the anger and the fury that Gladio had shown in Gralea. He’d mostly just felt nothing, which had been part of the problem. Shellshocked from his own trials and trauma, beaten down by the endless daemons and taunts from Ardyn, the loss of Noctis had nearly shut Prompto down, emotionally speaking.

 

In his darker moments, Prompto recalled their escape from Gralea. Those memories fueled his nightmares and left him hollow. Ardyn sauntering off after they’d killed him, that stupid hat perched back atop his head as if nothing had happened. Leaving the crystal behind, Prompto focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, while Ignis and Gladio argued behind him.

Every door Prompto had used his barcode to unlock on their way out had only hammered things home and drained him further of his humanity. At least, until Gladio had spun the young man into a wall and growled something in his face about Prompto was being no better than the MTs that they were destroying on their way out.

He hadn’t even noticed how far Ignis had fallen behind, and that was what had hurt the most. Too far to hear the altercation until it was physical, too injured to get between warrior and gunner, Ignis had resorted to one of his rare outbursts of coldly rationalized anger. It had shattered the remaining bonds between the men there and then.

They'd escaped, made it back to Caem, and then broke apart in the night never once realizing it would be the last time the sun set on them.

 

“Gladio, look,” Prompto began, never taking his gaze off of the darkened sands. “You and I, we aren’t good. Probably never will be. I get that. Hell, I understand it. I’m not good with Gralea either. How it went down… that was wrong. And you can be as pissed with me as you want. I can take it.” His voice wasn’t shaking, and that surprised him.

“But stop shutting Ignis out. He doesn’t deserve that. Shut me out, that’s cool, man. But Ignis didn’t do anything to warrant your anger other than to say what he thought.” He took a deep breath, shaking his head, still not looking back. “So quit being pissed at him for having an opinion.” _He’s sadder than any one of us can ever know_ … Aranea’s words haunted Prompto, and maybe he could push Gladio into talking to Ignis. Maybe it would make a difference.

Silence ruled from the far side of the tower, and Prompto plunged onwards. “And when Noctis comes back? Because he _will_ come back. I’ll be here. And we’ll all join forces and do what needs to be done. For Noct. After that? Don’t much care.” He frowned at movement in the shadow, and then noted the patrol skirting the darkness and eased back on the trigger. “But when Noct comes back, he’ll never know from me that you and I aren’t good. Understand?”

There was a long silence, and then finally, there was a grunt that Prompto took to be assent. Shortly after that, Prompto heard Gladio move away from the corner and descend the stairs of the tower, leaving him alone to watch the night. No mind. Someone would be up them soon enough. Prompto could hear a voice, and then lighter footsteps. Ah yes. Aranea.

“Big guy can sure hold a grudge,” Aranea offered as she came into Prompto’s peripheral vision. “Can’t say you didn’t give it a good try though. Not that I meant to eavesdrop, sorry about that. I was coming up to take shift and thought I’d better wait until the air was clear.”

“Air’s as dark as it gets,” Prompto muttered, watching the distance. It was safer than letting her see how tired he was of all of it. Ignis was right; Prompto’s light was dying, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. Gladio hadn’t helped, either. The only thing Prompto could do was be glad he hadn’t burst into tears with the warrior like he had with Ignis. “Some things break and can’t ever be fixed.”

“Don’t I know it,” Aranea said, draping herself on the railing next to Prompto. “But sometimes you get lucky and a second chance turns up. Just look at me. I’m all about second chances.” She bumped the blond with her hip and winked at him when he looked at her in surprise. “And speaking of second chances… you, me, dinner? It’s been a while.”

Something flickered in Prompto, a bit of warmth that had grown cold in the tower with Gladio. “Yeah, okay. Dinner. I’d like that.” From below came a shout, and activity from the Southwest. Prompto turned, looked at the daemons rising, and waved his hand. “Go on and help them. I’ve got it up here.”

Aranea didn’t need another word, leaping down with her lance in hand to lend aid, and Prompto did the second hardest thing of the night: he turned his back to that battle and watched his post, waiting for the daemons to try coming from the North. When they did, he’d be ready for them, guns primed. It would feel good to shoot something today. It really would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This heart deliberately left broken*


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Three hours later, Prompto was relieved of his shift, and headed down to the barracks behind the garage to take a shower. If he was going to meet Aranea for dinner, he wanted to at least not look like he’d spent the day in a grungy tower trying to justify his existence to the world. Or Gladio. Damnit. He’d tried.

The showers were occupied, so Prompto sat on his bunk and pulled out the kit that allowed him to write to Ignis. A stylus and a metal frame that held a blank sheet of paper always sat at the ready for when Prompto had a few minutes. He ticked off a few lines of a letter, listening for the showers to be free. Two pages later, he managed his own shower, and then checked in to see if there were any couriers headed to Lestallum.

There weren’t any, so he tucked the assembly off to the side and went off to the garage to tinker a bit on his motorcycle, hoping he could avoid Gladio. The last thing he wanted was to have another altercation with the swordsman. Maybe if he got lucky, Gladio and Cor would have already left and he wouldn’t have to duck around a corner.

He wasn’t quite so lucky. Gladio and Cor were in the garage proper, and Prompto ignored them both as he walked by them, heading for his motorcycle. He suspected Cindy had already fixed the bike up, but he wanted to make sure he hadn’t left his- yup, there it was. That silly little chocobo keychain that Noctis had given him in their senior year was still tucked in the bag under the seat.

He scooped the thing up, careful to keep it from sight as he maneuvered it into his pocket. There was no need to give Gladio any more ammunition against him, and seeing something so old and important would scream sentimentality. And given the mood Gladio had seemed to be in as of late? It would just encourage more taunts from the man.

Cor attempted to greet Prompto, but the blond only raised a hand in greeting as he hurried off, looking far busier than he actually was. Looking for Aranea to discuss the dinner she had suggested seemed quite the thing to do, so he hustled out of the garage and headed towards the diner to see if she was there.

 

Dinner with Aranea turned out to be two containers grabbed from Takka’s and then a madcap dash through the darkened sands to her red jumpship parked slightly north of Cotisse Haven. Once inside, they paused for breath, and Prompto looked in surprise as he saw the interior was set up much as a campsite tent… without the benefit of campfire. “So you sleep here while your crew bunks in the barracks?”

“Yup,” Aranea said as she set the containers down on the camp table. “There’s almost always someone near the ship, in case of emergency. Biggs and Wedge have been sleeping in shifts at Cotisse. Doesn’t take long to pack this gear if we need to move out and assist someone in need and sometimes having immediate access to medical supplies makes the difference.”

Prompto nodded slowly, moving to help her arrange things so they could eat. “It’s kind of nice, I guess, having your own ship. Back before Gralea, when we had the Regalia, it was easier… even after the fall. A motorcycle’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but it just doesn't have the cargo capacity that a full size car or even a smaller ship would. I’ve been sort of half-tempted to try making it back to Gralea. See what I might find in the ruins that would still work.”

“I sent some men that way once,” Aranea’s voice was quiet as she rummaged out two plates. “What they found wasn’t worth the trip, so save your own life and give that a pass.” A plate was offered, and when he took it, she turned back to the food, opening containers and waving him at them. “Besides, fuel isn’t easy to come by unless you find a Magitek generator and bribe Cindy to install it.”

Magitek. The word gave Prompto the chills. “Hadn’t thought of that.” The Regalia had been retrofitted with one in the later days, and Ignis had called it a travesty. Noctis had been glad he didn’t have to pump fuel anymore. “Yeah,” Prompto said with false cheer, “guess that’s out. I’ll just keep to my motorcycle.”

Aranea made a noise somewhat akin to a snort, but didn’t comment further. Instead, she waved Prompto over to a chair and she took the one beside it, leaving food forgotten for the moment. “Prompto… go ahead and eat if you want. I’m not quite hungry yet, so don’t wait for me.”

That made Prompto pause. He hadn’t spent that much time with Aranea, but he didn’t think someone would get food and then not eat it. Truth be told though, he wasn’t that hungry either. He set the plate on the counter and walked over to kneel by her, searching her face. “You okay, Aranea?”

“Nearly lost a good man today,” she started, and then sighed. “One of the first to accept my command, and the first to stand beside me when we broke away from the Empire. He’ll pull through, but some days I ask myself if it’s worth dragging the good ones into the muck with me. Especially with how critically low potion and elixir stocks are getting.”

Prompto had been surprised that they’d lasted as long as they had, to be honest. People were resorting to scientific healing methods over magical ones, hoarding the magical for when science completely failed them. Like with Ignis. If he’d had an elixir for himself, his story would have been different in Altissia. Instead, the advisor had handed his to civilians.  “Yeah, I’ve got a few left myself. Got a few new scars, but scars build… character.” Prompto’s voice fell on the last word. That had been something Gladio had said to him once upon a time.   _Damnit_.

Well, this wasn’t going to do; they were both falling into the doldrums. He took a deep breath, forced the smile on his face, and grabbed Aranea’s hand, pulling her out of her chair. She yelped in surprise, but didn’t resist when he pulled her into a dance position and started singing an inane tune. For a moment, he wasn’t sure it was going to work, and then she smirked and moved along with him.

He led her around the mock campsite, singing his stupid chocobo song (without the words themselves) until she was laughing softly, and then stepped back and bowed to her with a flourish. She couldn’t help but smile at him and shook her head in amusement. “You’re nuts. You know that, right?”

“Yeah… but I’d like to think I’m a _good_ kind of nuts, like the kind coated in chocolate.” Prompto replied, grinning. “Just a little random silliness because it was getting _way_ too dark in here.” It cheered him to see her brighten, and impulsively, he stepped forwards and kissed her.  He’d meant to get her cheek, but she moved and he got her lips instead. Surprised, he stepped back and looked at her with wide eyes. _Oh crap._ _Cue awkward moment time_.

Her lips were curved, and she lifted a finger to touch his lips, steel eyes sparkling. “Why, Prompto Argentum, I didn’t know you were a man who went for dessert first.” Her finger trailed lower, hooked the collar of his shirt and drew him to her so she could kiss him, and suddenly it wasn’t quite so awkward anymore.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Time marched on. It wasn’t measured in sunrises and sunsets, wasn’t ticked off by the passage of seasons. Time, for Prompto, was marked by slowly healing injuries and that gradual awareness that came with age. Those who had been young were now leaning inexorably into adulthood, while adults were coming to terms with aches and pains that didn’t go away quite so fast. Those who were older were slowly on that long path into the darkness.

Cid had started down that long and slow decline, and though he had been talked into going to Lestallum for a time, he’d found the separation from Hammerhead untenable, and Ignis had accompanied him on his return. Prompto had immediately been thrilled to be reunited with both men, though saddened that Ignis had come without his companion.

As such, Prompto had never told Ignis about his relationship with Aranea. They worked together, fought together, laughed and cried together, but there were two secrets Prompto swore to take to his grave, no matter when that might be. The first was Aranea. The second was Gladiolus. After all, Ignis and Gladio had more or less made good with each other.

Prompto, for the first time in his life, learned to lie convincingly.

 

And Noctis. Gods above, Noctis. There he was, right there, _reach out and touch him!_ He’s different, older. Something else, a power, it radiates from within him. And oh _Six_ , it hurts. But Prompto smiles. He smiles all through the reunion at Hammerhead, smiles all through dinner. And then Noct starts talking and Prompto can’t smile anymore. Noct asked why it was so hard, and Prompto _knew_. Knew that Noctis wasn’t getting out of this.

The campfire confession broke Prompto’s heart. “Yeah, you’re damn right it is,” It wasn’t anything that he could change and he didn’t hear Gladiolus reply. Ignis’ reply, however, echoed in his ears and landed on what was left of his heart, crushing it. He didn’t care what they thought. Prompto wept.

 

Noctis had made sure each of his companions got time with him that night, and Prompto was sitting on the edge of the cliff overlooking the bridge to Insomnia when Noct walked up. “Hey,” _Ten years on and he’s still the same. Like time skipped past him and we grew old._ He almost didn’t answer, and then Noct sat beside him.

“So.”

“Yeah.”

Silence fell between them, and Prompto screamed in the depths of his own mind. He had so much he wanted to say, but where the hell did he start? He opened his mouth. “I forgive you for the train. I forgive you for not knowing it was me. And I missed you so damn much it hurt.” _I wouldn’t have wanted you to come back just to die… would I?_ “But I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how…”

The hand that fell on his shoulder was warm, real. It was a grip worthy of a King, gentle yet strong enough to catch Prompto’s attention and make him turn to look to the man who possessed it. Noctis smiled sadly. “I don’t know how either, Prompto. You’ve been beside me for so long. How do you say goodbye? How do I let you go?” Prompto’s words in Noctis’ mouth.

He shook. “Noct, I…” He took a deep breath, reaching into himself and focused his thoughts. “I’m with you to the end. No matter what it is, no matter what happens. My place is at your side and where you go, I’m already there. Don’t make me leave. Not after I’ve waited for so long.” _Don’t tell me I’m not part of this._

“That’s what been bugging you?” The same words, after all this time. But for Noct, it hadn’t been that long after all. “I would never make you leave, Prompto. Never. So catch me up. Ten years… guess I’ve missed a bit. We used to sit all night and just talk and play King’s Knight. Seems like yesterday for me. But you… I want to hear everything.”

There wasn’t time for all that. There couldn’t be time for that. How could you distill ten years of waiting and living down into a handful of hours? “Gods… everything. You sure you’ve got time for all that? I mean, I’m sure they’ve told you a lot… the daemons and the monsters and everyone retreating to Lestallum. Hell, all you have to do is look around to know that. I’d rather tell you the stuff you can’t see.”

“Okay…” Noctis half-laughed, giving Prompto his undivided attention. Prompto had forgotten how that felt. This man, the literal light of Lucis, focusing his attention on him. It felt like basking in the sun.

“Like… Talcott. He’s amazing. Kid’s got a head on his shoulders like no other. Lots of plans to fix things too. He’s going to change the world, no doubt about it. Oh, oh, and Aranea. She and I are totally a thing and I hope that doesn’t upset you man because she. Is. Awesome.” Once the floodgates had opened, Prompto was a torrent of words.

Noctis blinked and lifted his hand. “Hang on. You,” he pointed to Prompto, “and Aranea Highwind. Are a…” He grinned and thumped Prompto lightly on the arm. “Hell yeah.” He nodded for emphasis, clearly pleased for Prompto. “Treat her right, though. She’ll kick your ass if you don’t.”

“Dude, trust me, I know. But sometimes she’s the only damn thing in this stupid world that made any sense until you came back.” _And once you’re gone…_ Prompto swallowed the words and looked out over Insomnia. “We’ve lost a lot of good people, Noct. And nothing says any of us will survive this.” He turned back to look at Noctis, his blue eyes steady and his heart full. “And that’s okay. I’m okay with that. I’ll be right there with you, bro. All the damned way.”

Noctis reached out and put his arm around Prompto’s shoulders and gave his little half-smile. “That’s good enough for me.” The dark blue gaze turned back towards Insomnia and they sat in companionable silence, two men contemplating the starkly short end coming.

 

Prompto had thought his heart had broken at the campfire. He was wrong. So very, very wrong. It had cracked, yes. But it wasn’t broken. It thudded in his chest when Ardyn attacked. It raced as they recovered themselves and tore out of the Citadel to see the two Kings fighting in the streets. It stuttered in terror when Ardyn landed on top of Noctis and it leapt when Noctis turned the battle and pinned the traitor to the road.

And when King Noctis Lucis Caelum stood on the stairs to the Citadel and Prompto saluted him, he felt his heart start to fall. It was a swooshy feeling that started with a quiver and rose up the stairs beside his King, his friend, only racing back to him when the Iron Giants attacked. But still it pounded on through battle, through pain and fear and damning all else, hope.

It didn’t break with the explosion of power that staggered Ignis and emboldened the Iron Giant to take a swing at the stunned blind man. “Ignis, Ignis!”

Prompto’s heart broke when Ignis, _steadfast Ignis,_ fell and out of the darkness came the light.

**Author's Note:**

> So here we are. And now we know.  
> Let's climb in this handbasket and see where we go.


End file.
